


Taming John

by pushkin666



Series: Taming John [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Harlequin, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushkin666/pseuds/pushkin666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is regency AU. Headstrong Rodney McKay is determined to rescue Pegasus Hall, his ancestral home, and his family from the estate's new owner, the rakish John Sheppard, who had won Pegasus Hall in a card game. </p><p>Disclaimer:  This is based on the book Taming Rafe by Suzanne Enoch. The initial chapters take heavily from the book.</p><p>*****<br/>I would also point out that this story is not going to be finished.   I took it down from my LJ primarily because people were demanding it be finished, but I have recently been asked by people for copies of it so thought it simply easier to post it here. </p><p>Also please note, I wrote this story some considerable time ago and I haven't read it in years. Nor have I gone back and amended any of it, so it is how it was when first posted on LJ and it may well be that there are grammatical errors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This place is the damned pits,” John Archibald Sheppard complained. Half-filled buckets caught a steady trail of water in the shabby gambling parlour. Thunder rumbled overhead as London suffered a constant downpour of water, the lightning outside the windows illuminating the damp clientele taking shelter in Weir’s Den.

“Why’d the devil you return to London then?” Bates asked as he placed his bet.

John shrugged. “I’d seen the whole country so there wasn’t that much point in hanging around. I have enough tales of Atlantis to keep people entertained for some time.”

“Including the one about the Genii trying to serve you up for breakfast. That’s always been one of my particular favourites,” the third wagerer broke in. 

John took a further and longer swallow of his port. “Why thank you, Peter,” he commented dryly. “I live to please.”

Grodin smiled, his cheeks flushed slightly with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “I know how you are, John. You’re always going off on some adventure. You can’t bear to sit around and just simply enjoy life like the rest of us. You always have to be up and doing something, no matter what trouble is waiting for you around the corner. The amount of times something has tried to kill you or eat you, it amazes me you still want to carry on travelling.

“What about the trouble that can wait for you at home?” John asked, half serious.

“At least you know what the trouble is, John. Take my advice. Grand adventures are fine for stories but not a lot else. The way to a good life, Sheppard, is patience. You should know that. Simple, safe patience. “

Smiling faintly, John took in Grodin’s new well-fitting tan coat and the diamond pin stuck through his cravat. “Patience, yes. I thought you looked particularly… smart this evening!”

”You’ll never believe it, John, but it turns out I was grandma’s favourite relation after all. The old girl kicked off last January and left me with all of her her money, some ten thousand bloody quid.”

“Hope you don’t mind sharing some of that with us, Grodin,” Bates said. “After all, it is your time to place a wager.”

John’s amusement ebbed. His luck at the betting tables had been abysmal since he’d returned from Atlantis. Though his aim in avoiding his father had been successful, he was beginning to be bored. He had also noted that his losses had finally equalled last month’s pay and he realised what a sorry state he’d fallen into.

The fourth member of the group placed his own wager on the table and tucked a well oiled lock of mousy brown hair back into place. “All patience ever got me was stuck further and further into a rut,” he grumbled, glancing uncertainly at John.

Kavanagh had been doing that all evening and it was beginning to wear a little thin with John. “A Sheppard,” he’d said with awe in his voice when Bates had introduced him to John. It was almost as though he’d come face to face with the Colossus of Rhodes. At least their tall dark-haired hostess had been impressed. Being the second son of a Duke could be a nuisance at times, but he wasn’t above using the connection when he felt he needed to. 

John placed ten quid into Lizzie’s palm. “The seven if you please,” he murmured.

Lizzie giggled and placed the wager for him. That done, she settled back into his lap and resumed nibbling on his right earlobe, all the time rubbing her hand up and down his front. It had been over 2 years since he’d spent an evening at Weir’s Den and if not for the amusement Bates and Grodin promised he would have gone much earlier in the evening to find better game. The Den had long since ceased to be a gathering place of the ultra-wealthy.

Mind you, the boys and girls employed by Lizzie were attractive to look upon and more than happy to give pleasure to somebody of his background. 

Peter leaned forward over the table toward him. “I hear you sold out your commission, John. The army too tame for you now?

“Have you really? Well I am surprised, John.” Bates chuckled. ”You going to clerk for daddy now? Or perhaps you’d like to keep a tally of all of his cattle. Or you could always join the priesthood. Isn’t that what younger sons always do? What do you think, Father John?”

John narrowed his eyes. “Very funny.”

Lizzie swallowed. ”Don’t listen to him, John. What a waste of a fine man that would be.” She trailed her finger down the long narrow scar that ran from his left cheekbone to his jaw. He flinched and curled his fingers around her wrist, halting her action and rerunning her hand to where it had been previously fiddling with the buttons of his waistcoat. “Never fear, my dear. I couldn’t possibly do such a thing to myself.”

”But what’s it to be?” pursued Bates. ”Your father, his grace, won’t stand for your lounging about in gambling dens much longer. You know he won’t, John.”

John signed but he knew it was true. However, his resignation of his commission after 7 years with his regiment would please his father no end, which is why he hadn’t yet told him. He looked across at the fifth member of their quintet. “You in or not, Kolya?”

The thin, sour-looking dandy placed his stack of coins by the seven of hearts, next to John’s. ”In, of course, Sheppard.”

John watched him. He recognised a fellow gambler and he also knew that Kolya was cheating. He was doing an excellent job of it. In fact nobody else seemed to have noticed. But even whilst he was studying Kolya's technique and having a wanton chit wriggling around on his lap, he could not be distracted from one annoying fact-- he was bored. Leaving Cambridge to join the army had seemed at the time both exciting and challenging and it had been in the beginning. It had also had the particular advantage of being completely against his father’s wishes. Wearing snappy uniforms and leading endless parades had not been as rewarding as he had hoped, although he did admit to himself that he’d looked good! A uniform was also an excellent device to pull any girl or lad that he set his eyes upon and John had certainly indulged himself with both sexes.

Volunteering for Wellington’s regiment at Waterloo had been John’s solution. He had finally been able to put some of his hard-earned knowledge to use. But as soon as his father had heard he’d been injured, he’d ordered him home.

After that he’d spent a long three years back in grey and dismal England before he finally cajoled and connived his way onto a schooner carrying a battalion of lancers to Southern Atlantis. And now his father had managed to get him unvolunteered from that duty as well. John loathed his father’s highhandedness. He seemed to want to control every aspect of John’s life. A desk, or worse yet, a pulpit would be next if his father had his wish, but John knew it would kill him.

He and Kolya won the next round of faro, as John had been fairly certain they would. Lizzie giggled again and did some more sliding around on his lap as he raked in his share of the winnings. Her enjoyable wiggling and his winnings were pleasant. However there was not enough yet to enable him to escape to anywhere that wasn’t London and somewhere that the illustrious fingers of the Sheppard family couldn’t reach. The Duke, of course, would crawl on his hands and knees before giving John more than ten quid for something useless. And his elder brother, Carson, would require him to write a paper discussing the merits of the various people he’d met and hoped to meet before even considering it.

John reached around Lizzie for his glass and drained it. Because he’d been watching for something, he caught the quick glance between the dealer and Kolya. Now that was just too much. It was highly insulting. He may well have been counting the cards himself but at least he’d been doing it on his own. To enlist the aid of the house was plain dastardly and he wondered if Lizzie was aware of what her dealer was doing.

When all the bets had been placed, the dealer flipped the next card. This time John saw the turn of his wrist. He nodded as Kolya won another hand. “Oh well done, old man! What say we play another round and then call it a night?”

John leaned forward and caught the dealer a sharp blow across the jaw. With a surprised grunt the man fell out of his chair and onto the floor. 

"What the hell are you doing, Sheppard?" Kavanagh shot to his feet. 

“I’m so sorry, and especially to you Lizzie, but I do feel that that chap wasn’t paying particular attention to his duties,” John drawled. He lifted a hand and guided Lizzie to the dealer’s vacant chair. “Now everybody will please contribute oh, let’s say, one hundred quid into the pot and then Lizzie will turn over the top card.”

”This is highly irregular Sheppard,” Kavanagh complained again.

Peter chuckled. “Most things about John are. What are you up to, old boy? Are you thinking of another country?”

“I’m thinking maybe China,” John answered, ”or possibly Athos. I’ve never been there.”

Kavanagh glanced over at Kolya. “And what? We’re supposed to fund your travels for you?”

“Well, you will if you lose,” John answered coolly. “Now are you in or out?”

Kavanagh eyed the cash on the table, the small pile of money remaining before him and the expression in John’s eyes. “I don’t have a hundred quid,” he muttered, resuming his seat.

“Then we’ll say good evening to you, unless of course you have something else to wager.”

Kolya watched his companion over the rim of his glass. “Time for all little boys to toddle off home, eye Kavanagh?”

“Damn and blast it, Kolya, I’m not a child. Stop that.” Kavanagh met John’s aloof gaze again. “I’ve got this,” he said and reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a much-folded heavy piece of parchment, which he laid on the table with a trembling hand.

Kolya laughed unpleasantly. “My god, Kavanagh, you have got balls!”

“It’s worth a hundred quid, or more I’d say,“ Kavanagh said, slumping back into his chair and reaching for his port before draining it dry.

For a moment, but only for that long, John took pity on him. Despite Kavanagh aping his friend’s attire and manner, he could only have been about twenty two or twenty three, certainly old enough to know better than to hang around with a snake like Kolya, but then as Kolya slid his hand up Kavanagh’s thigh, he decided if the boy wanted to pick friends like that he should be ready to deal with the consequences.

John dragged the parchment into the centre of the table with his fingertips, and then poured himself another glass of port from the pewter jug. He glanced over at Lizzie. She smiled, running the pink tip of her tongue over her lips and front teeth.

“It’ll do. Lizzie, your deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rodney McKay shook his sister awake as thunder roared overhead. “Jeannie, wake up, you have to get your things and come with me.” He pulled his sister out of the bed as she rubbed her eyes in sleep. “Come on, Jeannie. You need to hurry.” Jeannie McKay, too used to listening to Rodney as the voice of authority, pushed her blankets back and climbed out of bed. She watched as Rodney went back into the corridor.

Rodney shuddered as another violent gust of wind rocked the house. “Damn it, Kavanagh McKay, you should be here,” he muttered through clenched chattering teeth. It wasn’t as though Kavanagh would really have been of any use; he never had been before. However, it would have been nice for a change to have somebody else to rely upon, Rodney thought. Rodney cursed his half-brother quietly. Although Rodney was elder by some 5 years, Kavanagh was the legitimate son and everything had passed to him on their father’s death. Rodney’s mother had often said that Kavanagh didn’t have the sense God would give a sheep, but she only ever said this to Rodney, being careful to ensure that her comments didn’t reach anybody else’s ears. Rodney still missed her tremendously, even though she’d been dead for nearly 8 years now. 

Since their father had died Kavanagh seemed to have gone through the family money at a great rate. Five weeks earlier he’d dismissed the butler, Daniel, the last of the family’s servants. True they had saved £3 per month but then Kavanagh had taken it into his head to go to the London with his friend Kolya to see if he could win back money at the gaming tables. Rodney didn’t like Kolya. The way the man looked at him when Kavanagh wasn’t around made him want to go and bathe immediately, three or four times just to be sure he felt clean again. 

Despite Rodney’s protests Kavanagh had left with Kolya, taking their carriage, their last horse and, of course, all of the ready cash with them. Rodney had managed to hide some in case of emergency, but tonight looked like it would wipe that out.

Wind and rain battered the old walls of the house and the timbers in the attic groaned and creaked. “Jeannie, hurry up.” 

“I’m coming, Rodney..” Rodney pushed his bulky quilt over the railing and let it fall to the floor below. He turned back towards Jeannie’s bedroom. As he did, the sound of glass breaking came from the bedroom. Rodney hurried back in and pushed his sister out of the way of the window, swiftly piling clothes, books, toys and shoes onto the middle of a blanket. “Grab your pillow and follow me.” Rodney pulled the corners of the blanket together and knotted them. Dragging the bundle out of the bedroom he headed for the stairs, Jeannie following closely behind. Rodney pulled his sister towards him and as the groaning of the wing took on a more alarming timbre he looked anxiously up at the ceiling. Cracks started to spread across it. Rodney blanched and quickly looked away, pushing Jeannie down the stairs before him, as quickly as he could without trying to alarm her unduly. 

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door blew in. Jeannie screamed and backed away, pulling her pillow close to her chest. Rodney grabbed her by the arm, pulled the bundle with the other arm, and propelled her towards the library in the newer east wing of the house. As they reached the library door, a resounding crack could be heard from the west wing. As they turned back to watch, the entire wing lurched sideways and then collapsed in on itself. Glass, wood, water and plaster flew outward. As Jeannie began to scream in terror, Rodney bought his attention back to her. He quickly pushed her through the library door. “We’ll be fine in here. I promise. Just go and settle yourself down and I’ll try and get a fire lit.” Damn you, Kavanagh, Rodney thought again. The one time we actually need you and you’re not here.

************************

 

John Sheppard awoke to the very pleasant sensation of having his nipples licked. Reluctantly cracking open one eye, he looked downwards at a dishevelled head of raven hair slowly working its way down towards his groin. “Goddamit, Lizzie, my head hurts. And where the hell am I?”

She lifted her head to look at him and grinned. “My room John, you should know what it looks like.”

“It’s been a while, pet, I’ve got a rotten head and it’s too early in the morning to be awake.” 

“Serves you right for drinking all of that port,” she retorted before continuing her downward journey. Lizzie giggled. “And it isn’t morning, John.” She lowered her mouth to his groin.

John glanced towards the window. “Damn it!” He had things to do. Although considering what she was currently doing, he didn’t feel the urge to stop her just yet. He rested his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes, giving himself up to the sensations of Lizzie’s mouth and fingers on his cock.  
The appointment wasn’t that important after all.

Remembering the bet the previous night, he opened his eyes again to look to the nightstand. Kavanagh McKay’s parchment was resting there. John reached over and unfolded it, wanting to see what it actually was that he’d signed the previous night. He scanned the document and pushed Lizzie away from him.

“Hey, a bit more careful, John!” she exclaimed.

“Quiet,” he answered as he read the document again. “I’ll be damned,” he said, raking his hands through his hair. “I suddenly seem to be a landowner.”

“You’re a pig, that’s what you are”

“Maybe, but I’m certainly a well to do one all of a sudden.” He grinned.

 

************************

“You don’t think he’s really serious about travelling again do you?”

Kate Sheppard, the Duchess of Highbarrow, turned towards her eldest son. “You seem to think he is, Carson, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered mentioning it to me.”

Carson sipped his scotch and scowled. “It’s ridiculous, even for John. After all, he’s only been back in the country a few weeks and he wants to go off again.”

Kate sighed and studied Carson as he turned his head to listen for his husband again. “You sound more and more like your father every day, Carson.”

“Well, thank you very much, mother. Why don’t you just insult me. Besides, I thought you’d want to know what Peter told me.” Carson took another sip of his scotch indignantly.

“I fail to see why John’s wanting to travel again is ludicrous. It is clear that he isn’t happy in London.”

“That’s hardly relevant, mother. He’s a Sheppard, for goodness sake!”

“I’m sure that he’s more than aware of what he is Carson, with both you and his father to remind him of that fact every other minute.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do. The two of you are constantly trying to make John into something that he isn’t. What do you want him to do, be a clerk for your father?”

They both looked towards the door as the butler scratched upon it. “Luncheon is served, your Grace, my lord.”

“Thank you, Miko”

The duchess rose and Carson followed her through the corridors and doors until they reached the huge dining room. They continued to bicker as they entered the room. “Look, mother, you have to understand. I’m not trying to make John into something he isn’t. I just worry about him. I don’t want him to go back to the army. And he’s been back hardly any amount of time and he’s talking about going off again. I just worry.”

“So do I, dear.” The duchess moved towards her chair and sat down.

“And another thing,” Carson continued, “if he wanted to go, why the devil didn’t he mention it to me?”

“Perhaps he thought you’d be upset, dear.”

Carson narrowed his eyes. “That’s never bothered him before. If I were a doctor, I’d have to prescribe myself medication every time my brother was around.”

Kate laughed and glanced over at the clock. “Miko, are his Grace and Radek on their way?”

“Yes, Madame, they’re just finishing playing chess.”

Kate smiled and glanced at the clock again. She worried about her youngest, and if she was being honest, her favourite son. He was in England so very rarely and he’d avoided them since he’d come back. She wondered what he was going to do next with his life. He’d been in the army, fought with Napoleon, charmed many men and women into his beds and won and lost again a small fortune in London’s clubs. She knew it wasn’t her that he was avoiding but his father. His Grace, the Duke of Highbarrow, had been a Colonel when he’d resigned his commission, and even when John had joined the army he had still not measured up to his father’s high opinion. No matter what he seemed to do, it was never good enough for Sumner. As though thinking of him conjured him up, her husband entered the room, followed by his son-in-law, Radek. When Carson had introduced Radek to his parents as his consort-to-be, they had been, to say the least, extremely surprised at Carson’s choice. But Radek’s openness and intelligence had won them around and it was clear that he and Carson adored each other.

Sumner was also pleased to have somebody in the house that would play chess with him. Carson had never managed to find his way around a chessboard. Although John was extremely good at chess, his unorthodox playing had driven his father to distraction until Sumner had eventually refused to play the game with him.

Carson stood to kiss Radek and hold out his chair.

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

John entered the room and Kate’s uneasiness deepened. It was clear that he was highly excited about something. His eyes flashed and his hair stood out all over, despite his obvious attempts to subdue it. Being recalled by Sumner from Atlantis had deeply angered him, and Kate didn’t blame him one bit. Indeed, she had argued against it with her husband. So far he had avoided a direct confrontation with Sumner about it, but from John’s expression it looked as though today was the day. He walked over to his mother’s chair and gave her a quick kiss before moving further down the table, away from his father, to sit at his seat.

Carson narrowed his eyes “You look slightly the worse for wear, John.”

John let out a tense chuckle. “Well, I got a little tipsy last night. Still haven’t exactly slept it off.”

The Duke’s mood, already bad due to John ignoring him, blackened further at his appearance. The Sumner Thundercloud, Carson called it. “You might have shaved and changed your clothes before you dragged your worthless hide in here, boy. For God’s sake, we had the King to dinner last week!”

“Lucky you, father. And good afternoon to you too. Always such a pleasure to see you. I didn’t realise you were in the room until you scowled. You look completely menacing as normal.”

Kate cleared her throat “John, might I…”

“I’d rather be menacing than useless,” Sumner growled.

“Sumner!”

“Don’t’ worry, mother. You don’t have to protect me for a change. For once I think even you might be impressed with me, father.”

“I doubt it,” Sumner sneered.

John produced a heavy piece of parchment from his coat pocket and threw it down the table towards his father. “Take a look at that. You’ll see I’m now the owner of Pegasus Hall in Cheshire.”

Sumner pulled the paper towards him and opened it. “I’ll be damned! The boy’s right.”

Radek leaned over the table and shook John’s hand. “Oh, well done, John! How did you manage that? Did you assassinate somebody or was it a duel of honour?” His eyes were round behind his glasses as he waited eagerly for John’s reply.

“Neither, my sweet. I sold my commission and used the money as a stake, and ……”

“You sold out your commission?” The Duke pushed back his chair in anger and moved around the chair towards his youngest son.

John moved back slightly away from his father. He ran his hands through his hair. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

“It’s the first useful thing you’ve ever done.”

Kate put her hand on her husband’s arm, halting his progress towards John. “So, you’ve bought yourself an estate?”

John’s gaze held hers for a moment and then slid away towards his father. “Well, not exactly. I won it. This McKay chap put the deed on the table as his stake and lost it. He seemed glad to be rid of it. I signed it, he signed it and it was witnessed by Grodin and Bates, and now it’s mine.”

“And what do you plan to do with it, John?” the Duchess prompted.

“Who cares how John got hold of it! He’s finally using his head for something other than being a target. Thank God. I felt for sure you were going to be off on some damn fool expedition again.”

John smiled wryly. “As it is father, you’re not that far wrong.”

“You can’t be travelling here, there and everywhere once you have an estate to run. You need to be on hand. I presume you’ll want me to look at the books, as you won’t know the first thing about how to manage an estate. If you’d ever listened to me…”

“I’m not keeping the bloody place. I intend to sell it.”

Sumner tried to push past his wife again, towards John. “You’re what?”

John glared at him, his green eyes glinting with a year’s worth of repressed anger. “I have absolutely no bloody intention of setting myself up as a landowner like you and my brother. I can’t think of anything more boring. Your life is a bore and both you and Carson are welcome to it. I, on the other hand…”

Carson sat up. “Now just a damn minute, John.”

“As I said, I’m going to sell the bloody place for as much as I can get for it.”

“And do what, gamble or whore it away? You’re no son of mine.”

John’s face fell and he looked away from his father. “No, I suppose I’m not. I’m going to travel. I’m going to leave England and get as far away as I possibly can from you. You may own half of England but you don’t own the Colonies, the Orient or Asia. And you don’t own me. Mother, Radek, good day.”

John moved around the table, picked up the deed and strode towards the door. Before he exited he turned back. “Miko?”

The startled butler looked towards him. “Yes, Master John?”

“Pack up all of my belongings. I’ll take my cases and send for the rest if I need anything.”

“Very good, sir.”

The door slammed behind John. Kate put her head in her hands.

“For God’s sake, Kate, go stop him before he does something he’ll regret,” the Duke blustered.

Kate took her head out of her hands and looked at her husband. “After what you’ve just said, Sumner, I doubt very much that anything would make him come back to this house. You do realise, don’t you, that you’ve probably just lost him for good?”

Carson and Radek looked at each other clearly dismayed as Kate sat back in her chair.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days later John sat astride his horse, as he neared his destination. It had taken him a leisurely three-day ride to get here. It had given him plenty of time to think about the confrontation at his parent’s house and where he planned on going on the proceeds of the sale of the hall. He had decided that he would like to start his travels in Athos and then move on to Japan. He’d had a couple of Athosians in his regiment and they had entranced him with stories of their country. 

He had stopped at inns on the last two evenings and had not slept alone. John had had to be somewhat celibate when he had been with his regiment. Affairs within the forces were frowned upon and he had had very little time to avail himself of the delights of the Atlantis. He had had to be very careful, particularly when in the territories of the wraith and the genii. He’d never been quite as scared of anything as he had been of the wraith. They were known to feed upon man flesh but they had also been known to mate with prisoners before eating them! Not a fate that John would have particularly wished upon anybody, let alone himself. So he had been circumspect until he’d gotten back to England and so far he hadn’t slept alone a single night.

He stopped off at the last pub to ask for directions. The locals had looked upon him strangely when he’d advised them where he was heading. They had given him directions although he wouldn’t put it past them to find it amusing to send him off on a completely different route. He had however, put these thoughts behind him when he reached the stone bridge over what he assumed was the crown creek, a crown being carved into the bridge. They’d advised him that he had to go over the bridge, take a left and then the next path to the right and the hall was at the end of a long driveway.

John took a further look around and took a deep breath. He had never visited Cheshire before, the Sheppard family having no holdings in this county at all. It was a beautiful country and John was enjoying seeing the greenness of the surroundings after the dry devastation that had been visited upon much of Atlantis.

If John was reading the boundary markings correctly then there was a substantial parcel of land within the estate. He smiled, this was looking better and better, at this rate he should be able to sell the estate for a considerable amount of money, the land around looked like good agricultural land.

John had taken the turning up the driveway although he was beginning to wonder if he’d taken the wrong turning, as the house was still to come into sight, as the thought entered his mind the driveway took a turning and the house lay in front of him. 

John sagged into his saddle in disappointment. House would really be a compliment to the complete and utter wreck that stood before him. It looked as though it had been cannoned, the west wing caved in with small sections of plaster and walls still jutting up into the sky, shutters broken and one of the main doors swung forlornly from it’s singular hinge. Debris from the house was strewn around the front of the overgrown lawn.

John dismounted and tied his horse, Puddlejumper, to a rail at the front of the house. Giving her a pat he turned towards the house and mounted the moss-covered steps. It seemed as though Kavanagh McKay had known exactly what he was doing when he’d placed the deed on the betting table. John cursed Kavanagh and everybody else in the game that had lost, leaving him with this wreck.

He pushed the intact door inwards and stepped inside the house. The foyer was littered with leaves that had blown in from the ajar door. John looked around. The stairs leading up to east wing were still intact but the stairs leading to the west wing were completely destroyed. John turned towards what he deemed to be the dining room. Entering he noted the clutter strewn around. John kicked a chair into the corner and pushed against the door that he presumed would lead into the ground floor sitting rooms. The door wasn’t locked but there was definitely something barring it from the other side. He put his shoulder against it and pushed harder. It wouldn't budge at all. “Absolutely bloody marvellous. This is a complete and utter dump” John snarled and backed up. He took another run at the door before bouncing back. “Ouch, blast it to hell and back”. John rubbed his shoulder and glared at the door. If looks could move mountains the door would have been blasted open then and there. 

“Don’t you want this?” his heard a muffled voice say. The sound came from the half open door that led back into the foyer. Great, not only did he not have a saleable estate but he also had burglars. . Whoever they were they weren’t being particularly stealthy about it. If they were local they no doubt knew that Kavanagh Mckay had left the estate. Well they were about to find out differently. John rubbed his shoulder again and turned back towards the way he’d come. 

Rodney set down the clothing that he’d manage to salvage from his and Jeannie’s bedrooms. It had rained again yesterday and everything was damp. He’d left Kavanagh’s clothing upstairs. As far as he was concerned Kavanagh’s clothing could stay there and get damp, fuzzy and green. Jeannie and he needed clothing

The door slammed open. With a gasp, Rodney whipped around just as something very hard and heavy hit him, throwing them both to the floor. Rodney gasped and fought back. “Damn it all”, the brick wall on top of him growled in a deep voice.

Rodney kicked out and his attacker grunted as he made contact. “Run, Jeannie”, he yelled, kicking out at his attacker again.

He shifted off him and as Rodney struggled to his knees he glimpsed brown hair, green eyes and a scar.

Rodney cried out again and swung his fist into his face as hard as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

His arm was caught “damn it don’t”

Rodney only struggled harder and wrenching his arm free he rammed his elbow into his attacker’s stomach. He was awarded by a grunt of pain but as he tried to wriggle free he was slammed down onto the floor, his arms pinned over his head. When he tried to move away the hard body above him came to rest on his back, covering him completely. Rodney twisted his head to look into the scowling face above him. It was an attractive face; marred only by a long thin scar running from the left ear to just under the left eye, like the silvery trail left by a snail. His face was surrounded by messy black hair that looked as though hands had been run through it.

Rodney’s eyes were drawn to the lips, which looked extremely kissable. Rodney blushed and quickly glanced away from the lips, into the hazel eyes that were now watching him with interested speculation. Rodney nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip not realising how inviting he looked. 

John stared down at his captive. Brilliant blue eyes glanced up at him and then away, a faint pink tinting his cheeks. John felt a tingle in his groin as the full bottom lip was licked. He leaned down closer and rubbed his growing hard on against the man under him. “Well, what do we have here”? He leant further in.

Rodney tried to squirm away from him, when he suddenly fell forward onto him with a groan. Jeannie stood above the two of them with a teakettle in her hand. She grinned widely at Rodney. “I hit him”, she said with pleasure.

“So you did”. Rodney rolled his attacker off him onto the floor and clambered to his feet, wiping the dust from his clothes fastidiously.

“Can we tie him up?” Jeannie asked.

“I think we should don’t you, before he wakes up”.

“Oh”. Jeannie looked pensive for a minute and then before Rodney even realised what she was doing she hit the man again with the teakettle.

“Jeannie”!

“What! Now he won’t wake up before we tie him up”

Rodney sighed and shook his head. Sometimes Jeannie could be positively bloodthirsty. “Didn’t I tell you to run, young lady? What on earth do you think you were doing hitting him”?

“You would have done the same”, she retorted, a mulish expression on her face.

“Well, what’s done is done. Go and get some rope from the stables. I’ll watch him”.

Jeannie passed the teakettle to Rodney. “You might need this. Hit him if he wakes up”. Rodney stifled a grin and took the kettle.

Once Jeannie was gone Rodney studied his attacker more closely. He was tall and lean, with clear muscle definition. Black dishevelled hair hung into his face and blood trickled from the side of his head where Jeannie had hit him. He was dressed impeccably his clothing hugging his lean physique perfectly. He groaned and Rodney jumped, hitting him in the head with the kettle again. The man jerked and went still. Rodney shuddered; horrified that he might have harmed him irrevocably. He knelt down next to him and leaned in closer. He was relieved at the sound of soft breathing and taking a handkerchief from his pocket he held it to the head wound, the blood destroying the virginal whiteness of the cloth. He sat and watched him for a few minutes more until he heard the sound of running. 

Jeannie skidded to a stop beside him. “Here”, she gasped dropping several coils of rope on the floor next to Rodney. “Is it enough?”

“It will do fine”. Rodney took a length of the rope and rolled the man onto his front. He pulled the arms behind his back and looped the rope around his wrists. He tied them as tight as he could, blessing the time he’d spent with his father’s stable hands. He looked at the hands, although the nails were trimmed several of the fingers had calluses and a silver ring adorned the index finger of the right hand, the black stone set therein gleaming dully.

“I’ve got his feet done”, Jeannie said a moment later, sitting back on her heels and looking exceedingly proud of herself. Rodney smiled at his sister. Jeannie seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

Rodney looped another length of rope around his wrists then pulled him over onto his back. He slowly wrapped the remainder of the rope around his chest and flat stomach as tight as he could before knotting it. He tried to avoid stroking the man’s stomach as he worked.

“Who do you think he is?” Jeannie asked

“I’ve no idea”. The man groaned and his eyes fluttered open, hazel and dazed. They tried to focus on Rodney.

“Damned fool”, he muttered in a slurred voice before closing his eyes again.

“Do you think we broke his head?” Jeannie asked eagerly

“It’s always possible, especially given the trajectory with which you hit him”.

“Cracked my skull you damned assassin” his voice slurred again

“Watch your language”, Rodney ordered, “There’s a child present”. The eyes opened again and focused on him. “You’re no blasted child!”

“No, but I am”, Jeannie leaned around Rodney and peered down at him. “Are you a bandit? You look like a bandit and you did break in”.

“I did no such thing”. He tried to sit up but the ropes prevented him. He lay back down with a groan. “I think you’ve killed me”.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, retorted Rodney. “If you were dead you wouldn’t be able to talk. It would be an impossibility”. The eyes opened again. “Well aren’t you the clever one!”

“We’re going to get the constable”, Jeannie piped up

“Good”

“We clearly hit you too hard. Why would you think that it’s a good thing that you’re going to be arrested”, Rodney queried

“Because I’ll have you arrested. Thief”

Rodney spluttered. “I beg your pardon! I’m no thief! How dare you! You rogue and …. attacker of helpless men and children!”

“Helpless my ass”

“Language”. Rodney banged the kettle on the floor beside him. “Anyway, how can you call me a thief” Rodney declared indignantly.

“Look this is Pegasus Hall isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course it is.”

“Then you’re a damned trespasser and thief”, John replied

“What”, Rodney’s voice rose a couple of levels. “How the hell can I be a trespasser and thief in my own bloody home”

“Language. Besides it’s my home”

“He’s mad”, Jeannie said with solemnity. “Do you think we should call the doctor as well?”

“I most certainly am not. Help me up at once”

“I will not”, Rodney replied

“Look Master Helpless. My name is John Sheppard and this place, Pegasus Hall, and everything in it belongs to me. I can prove it”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Pegasus Hall has been in my family for generations and my brother is the current owner”

John’s gaze sharpened. “What’s your brother’s name?”

“Kavanagh McKay. Why?”

“Kavanagh. Of all the snivelling cowardly blasted bloody lowlifes. How in hell……”

“Mr Sheppard. Please desist. My sister has delicate sensibilities.”

John’s gaze switched to Jeannie and back. He snorted. “Somehow I doubt that”. Jeannie giggled  
“And it’s Major Sheppard, not Mr. What’s your name?” he asked Rodney. Rodney glared. “Not that it’s any of your business but Rodney McKay”.

“You look older than Kavanagh. How come you’re not the master and owner of the Hall?” He watched as a dull red suffused Rodney’s face.

Rodney gritted his teeth. “Kavanagh is the legitimate heir”.

“Ah. The wrong side of the blanket. That must grate” Rodney glared again.

John looked back at him steadily. “Look, would you just look in my breast pocket please” he asked in a more even tone. “You’ll find the deed signing over the land and house to me”. Rodney gasped at the words, nothing made sense. He took a deep breath and reached out to the jacket. Rodney wormed his fingers under the ropes and slid his hand inside the coat, feeling for the pocket. He could feel the heart beat under his fingers and he faltered as his hand slid over the firm chest. Rodney tried to control his breathing as he slid his hand inside the breast pocket.

“Do you feel it?” John asked . Rodney scowled, some of his confusion showing on his face. “Feel what exactly?”

John grinned. “A large thick piece of paper”. Rodney’s fingers touched it. “Yes, I do”

“Well do pull it out and have a look then”, he said in a low voice, hazel eyes locking with Rodney’s. Flustered, Rodney yanked the paper out. He rocked back. “Got it”

“Open it then Rodney”, his voice caressing the name. Rodney glared at him and opened up the deed. He scanned the first few paragraphs and blanched when he realised what he precise legal terms were conveying. He quickly flipped to the bottom of the document and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the signatures.

“This is not Kavanagh’s signature”, he declared his voice shaking with relief. For a horrible moment there he’d though that the Major had been telling the truth.

“Oh trust me it’s his signature”

“This is nothing like his signature. I’m afraid this is a very poor forgery and you, Mr Sheppard have been taken for a fool”

“Would it help if I admitted we were all half cut and as I said before it’s Major Sheppard!”

“Look I can understand how you could be fooled into thinking that this was genuine. Clearly you’ve never seen a deed before but this is a very poor joke somebody is playing on you” Rodney waved the deed in John’s face. John smiled. “Oh trust me I’ve seen plenty of deeds in my time and I know exactly what that is.”

Rodney stared at him. It seemed clear that the man believed the document to be genuine and Rodney felt a flicker of fear as he wondered whether or not he had ever seen the inside of bedlam. Rodney looked over at Jeannie, The man could be mad, the alternative of course was that they had caused some damage by hitting him with the teakettle.

“Look”, he returned his gaze to Sheppard, “I have a proposal for you”.

“I’m all ears”

“Yes you are aren’t you”, Rodney glanced at him. “I shall write to Kavanagh for clarification of the situation. In the meantime you may remain here provided you give your solemn vow not to harm Jeannie”.

A slow bemused smile touched John’s face. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll send for the constable and have you arrested for trespassing”.

John’s smile faded. “You have yourself an agreement Mr McKay”

“And your oath you won’t harm Jeannie”

“I agree not to do any harm to Jeannie. Although why you would imagine I would harm a little girl is beyond me” “Hey”, Jeannie said.

“Quiet” Rodney told her. He studied John’s face trying to ascertain whether or not he was lying. All he saw was a man who looked a little lost and dazed. Rodney could empathize . 

“Agreed. Jeannie hold the tea kettle while I untie him”.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time the ropes had been untied John Sheppard was beginning to wish they’d killed him rather than merely beating him unconscious with the blasted tea kettle. His head ached abominably and every movement made him feel sick. 

 

It was bad enough having been bound by these two, the last thing he wanted to do was be sick in front of them.

 

He pulled himself to his feet and felt the back of his skull. “Dammit”, he muttered, feeling the egg sized lump and the stickiness of the blood in his hair. He glared at Rodney and then switched his gaze to Jeannie. 

 

“I suppose you’re the one I have to thank for this!”

 

“Partly”

 

“Partly?” John queried.

 

“You started to wake up before we had you completed tied up and I had to hit you”, Rodney blustered.

 

“Well that’s just wonderful now isn’t it”, John’s eyes trailed up Rodney’s figure to his face. “Tell me, Mr McKay, do you do everything with such enthusiasm?” He watched with interest as Rodney blushed. John smiled. Rodney McKay had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and certainly the most open. He wondered how they’d look darkened with lust. He brought his mind back to the present as Rodney took the tea kettle from Jeannie.

 

“As long as you behave Major Sheppard, I won’t need to use this again”. To emphasise his point Rodney placed the kettle to one side.

 

“John please”. His fingers were bloody from where he’d touched his head and he was beginning to feel more and more nauseous as each minute passed. “Could I have my deed back please?”

 

Rodney passed the parchment to him. “I’m sorry you’ve had to come all this way from London Major Sheppard, only to find that you’ve been made the butt of somebody’s joke”.

 

“And I’m sorry that you have such a brother as Kavanagh. He’s certainly treated you and your sister exceptionally badly”. He held up a hand as Rodney was about to speak. “Before you even say anything can I suggest that you write to him immediately so he and I can settle this matter face to face”?

 

“I was already going to do that but thank you so much for the suggestion”. Rodney’s voice oozed sarcasm. “I’ll be sending the letter off tomorrow”.

 

John continued to stare at him. “That’s fine, in the meantime my horse will need to be stabled and if you could call a footman to show me to my room I’d be most grateful”. He watched as Rodney lowered his head slightly and looked away. “I presume you do have servants?”

 

Rodney lifted his head and glared. “We’re a little short of servants at the moment. I’m more than happy to stable your horse but I’m not particularly happy about you sleeping in the house”.

 

“Why?” John flicked his gaze up and down Rodney’s body again. “Are you afraid I’m going to ravish you?” He watched in amusement as Rodney gulped, turned bright red again, and took a step back from him.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Rodney snapped. “Why on earth would I imagine any such think, and can you please not talk like this in front of Jeannie”. John just grinned.

 

“You said you’d put me up, and it’s not as if I’m in any condition to do any further damage to anyone or anything.” 

 

He flashed Rodney his most charming and rakish smile, the smile that normally never failed him. Rodney however seemed to be made of hardier stuff. “You can stay in the stable. It’s warm and the roof doesn’t leak, and I’m told that straw can be very comfortable”.

 

“I am not sleeping in the stable!”

 

“Well your other option is to stay at the Child of the Hale Inn. You must have passed it on your way here if indeed you did come on the London Road. It’s only four miles down the road and they take paying guests. The landlord is Steve Grey. He is, I understand, a very good proprietor.”

 

Rodney hesitated, glancing at Jeannie and then back again to John. John got the distinct impression that although he seemed to make Rodney uncomfortable, Rodney didn’t want him to leave.

 

“Do the two of you live here alone?” He demanded.

 

“I’m sure I said we had no servants so, yes, it’s just the two of us until Kavanagh returns”.

 

“Good God, aren’t you scared of intruders? I could have been anybody. Don’t’ you have anything to defend yourselves with?”

 

“The tea kettle seemed to have worked fine and it’s not as if I’m a defenceless female Major Sheppard”, Rodney said in an exasperated tone..

 

“That’s you’re not”.

 

“Are you going to stay at the Inn then Major?”

 

“No”. His head ached. “Pegasus Hall is mine and I’ll defend it. No doubt your brother will be here in a few days”.

 

“I don’t need you help to defend my own”, Rodney snapped. 

 

“Well once your brother arrives and proves to you I own this place, I suppose I’ll have to stay in the stable”.

 

John staggered to his feet lurching against the table. “Blast it, my head hurts. You’re going to have to help me”. He pushed himself away from the table and took a couple of steps towards Rodney who was watching him with a slightly alarmed expression. John staggered again and without any warning other than a low groan he pitched forward in a dead faint. Rodney managed to catch him before he him the floor. He lifted him up into his arms, surprised at how slight the Major was.

 

“Is he alright?” Jeannie had a worried look on her face.

 

“He’s fine, but I can’t put him in the stable. Get some blankets and pillows will you and bring them along to the library. He can sleep there”. Rodney pulled the man in his arms closer and carried him out of the room towards the library. He settled the major on the chaise lounge while he stoked up the fire. Thankfully they had plenty of firewood and before long the fire was beginning to give off a warm glow.

 

Once Jeannie arrived with the blankets and pillows, Rodney made up a bed for the Major. He carefully eased his boots off and pulled the blankets around him. Setting a tankard of water down on the floor he knelt and studied the Major’s face.

 

He gently brushed a lock of the Major’s hair away from his forehead to see whether he was running a temperature. The Major sighed softly as Rodney’s fingers gently caressed his head. 

 

Asleep the Major looked younger and very vulnerable, lines of worry marring the smoothness of his brow. Rodney gave his face a final caress. “Just who are you really Major Sheppard”, he asked before rising to his feet and stoking the fire once again.

 

He blew out the light and closed the door behind him.

 

As the door closed the light from the fire caught the gleam of John’s eyes before they closed again.


	6. Chapter 6

Jeannie slid into the seat next to Rodney. “Good morning." 

Rodney looked up from his book. “There’s some toasted bread on the side." he replied.

“Do we have any jam?” 

“No, we’re out, we’ll have to pick some up from the store."

“Can I get some marmalade from the store?” 

“No. You know I can’t risk anything citrus in the house, not with my allergies.” 

Jeannie pulled a face. “Oh, you and your allergies!” 

“Jeannie….” 

“Good morning”. Rodney jumped as the Major entered the room. Seeing him upright and not shaking with dizziness Rodney was struck by how much presence the man had despite how crumpled he looked, dark tan breeches encased long muscular legs ending in black leather riding boots. He wasn’t wearing his jacket and his shirt clung to his chest. His black hair, damp from being washed, was already trying to spike up. Rodney drank him all in and the entire time the hazel eyes looked steadily back to him with light hearted humour just beneath the surface. 

“May I sit down? I promise you I’m weapon less!” 

Rodney smiled. “Be my guest Major, there’s coffee made if you would like some. How are you feeling by the way?” 

“Much better thank you. I freshened up at your pump outside. I’ll be honest and say that some breakfast would set me up just fine.” 

“Oh we’ve no food”, Jeannie piped up. 

“Jeannie”, Rodney snapped. “I must apologise Major for the poor repast but we didn’t have time to go shopping yesterday. There is some toast on the side”. 

John looked over at the basket of blackened toast and cleared his throat. “Did you make it Miss McKay?” 

Rodney stiffened at the unspoken criticism. “No, I made it……. I just lost track of the time”. He had absolutely no intention of telling the Major that he’d been daydreaming about a dark haired highwayman that had looked awfully like the Major. 

“Ah well, I’m sure it will be fine with some marmalade. I presume you do have marmalade.” 

“Rodney has allergies” Jeannie said. 

John looked nonplussed. “Pardon!” 

Jeannie carried on excitedly. “Rodney has lots of allergies, one of them is citrus. He’ll die if he touches anything citrus won’t you?” she turned to Rodney almost eagerly. Rodney ignored her almost gleefulness as she told the Major of his affliction. He directed his answer to the Major. “I do have a number of severe allergies, and if I eat or touch anything that is citrus I will go into anaphylactic shock. 

“That must be very difficult for you” John commented. 

“Yes it is”, he snapped, finding it difficult to respond to the sincerity in the Major’s voice. He was annoyed at his poor hospitality and by the Major’s regard. Now he’d have to go into the village to purchase extra food for their unwanted guest. He’d intended to finish off his search for anything salvageable in the west wing. Going to the village would take at least 2 hours of his time this morning, time that as far as he was concerned, was too important to squander. Besides he loathed dealing with Mrs Emmagan, the woman had turned sarcasm into an art form. She always made Rodney feel about 12 years old, which considering she wasn’t much older than him was an accomplishment. He eyed his guest speculatively. “I don’t suppose you’d feel up to riding into Pelford this morning Major?” He smiled his best smile at him. According to the Major he wasn’t a guest anyway. 

John stood for a long moment starring at him “For supplies I presume?” 

“Of course”. 

He grinned. “I suppose so, if I want to eat. Might Jeannie accompany me?” 

“It’s a straight road, you don’t need to be shown where it is”. Rodney was reluctant to relinquish his sister to a stranger, however handsome and charming he might be. 

“Oh I know where it is. I passed through it yesterday on my way here. It’s just”, he lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper and glanced at Jeannie, “if I’m set upon by bandits I’ll surely need the capable aid of Jeannie, Victorious Warrior of the Teakettle.” Jeannie grinned back at him and giggled. 

“Oh really”, snorted Rodney, “Don’t be ridiculous. You surely can’t expect me to just let you go off with my sister”. 

“But Rodney”, Jeannie complained 

“Mr McKay”, he said quietly, “you’ve been entrusting me with both your sister’s and your own safety since you untied me.. And if you’ll remember I did give you my word yesterday that I wouldn’t harm either of you. I may have been somewhat dazed but I do remember giving you my word and I don’t break my word.” 

Rodney held his gaze for a long time. He did have a good point, and his instinct told him that the Major would never hurt him or Jeannie. “Oh very well. Jeannie get your shawl and hat.” 

Jeannie cheered. “What’s your horse’s name? “she asked jumping up and down in front of John. “Is he fast? Can we gallop? Have you had him long? 

He gave her a grin that sent Rodney’s pulse skipping. “Puddlejumper; yes; no and about 5 years”. 

“Why not?” 

“Because the way my head still is he’ll be walking only. If you get your outer garments we can go”. Jeannie raced out of the room. 

John turned his attention back to Rodney. “Do you have a list?” 

“Of course I do. Can you read?” The Major starred at him and then smiled. “Don’t beat about the bush Rodney, why don’t you just come out and say what you’re thinking. Yes I can read, both my brother and I went to Eton, he continued to Oxford and I went to Sandhurst. Most officers do know how to read and write you know.” 

Rodney glared at him. “I was only asking, after all I still have no proof that you are who you say you are”. He handed the list to John. “Ask Mrs Emmagan to add the expense to our account. Tell her I’ll send her a side of mutton on Wednesday”. HE figured that would be enough to repay the shopkeeper. He really couldn’t afford more at the moment. 

“Alright”. John pocketed the list and turning left the kitchen, heading out of the house towards the stables. 

Rodney waited for Jeannie to join him and they followed the Major out of the house. 

His gaze took in the Major’s horse. He hadn’t really had a good chance to look at the animal the previous night. He’d been concerned with getting back to the house and had simply untacked the beast and left it in the stable with some water and hay. Puddlejumper stood proud in front of the house. The black was a well proportioned hunter with a flowing mane and arched tale. He was clearly part Arabian. Rodney’s gaze lifted to his rider. There was no mistaking the fact that John Sheppard knew how to ride. He sat easy in the saddle, the reins casually draped over the pommel. When Jeannie reached him he effortlessly lifted her into the saddle in front of him. 

“Are you sure we can’t gallop?” 

“Positive”, John saluted Rodney and turned the horse away from the house. 

Rodney watched them as they disappeared down the drive. Other than Kavanagh, Jeannie was the only close relative he had left. Since the little girl’s parents had died the two of them had been inseparable, Jeannie instinctively turning to Rodney rather than Kavanagh, her full blood sibling. But then Kavanagh had very little time for anybody but himself and although he sent Jeannie presents when he was away he paid little attention to the girl when he was at the Hall. Sighing, Rodney turned back to the house to see what he could salvage. 

 

************************* 

The looks John had received yesterday in Pelford were increased tenfold has he halted Puddlejumper in the village square. Clearly this was a village with an extremely nosy population. He dismounted and swung Jeannie down onto the ground next to him. 

John was used to unwanted attention. Whenever the Sheppards were in London, for whatever reason, they were stared at. 

John handed the shopping list to Jeannie. His head still ached and he knew without feeling for it, that there was a large lump at the back of his skull where he’d been hit. Having looked at Rodney’s small untidy writing he knew full well that any attempt at deciphering it would only hurt his head more. 

“Can you translate your brother’s scribble?” 

She giggled. “Of course!” 

“Many thanks, that’s your task then”. 

He tied Puddlejumper up and followed the child towards the shop. He’d hadn’t had much experience with children other than his sister’s and he had come to the opinion that they were loud drooly creatures that didn’t deserve his attention. This one however seemed capable of having a conversation, and of course she was a mean hand with a teakettle. 

Jeannie stopped just before the shop doorway and tugged his arm. “Major I have to tell you something”. He bent down towards her despite the pounding in his head. 

“What?” 

“I don’t like Mrs Emmagan. She says nasty things about Kavanagh”. 

“Can’t imagine why for the life of me” John muttered. He followed her into the shop, the bell ringing as he closed the door behind him. 

He watched as a tall dark haired woman came out of the backroom. “Miss Jeannie, where is your brother?” John’s eyes appraised her. She was wearing a dark green and brown dress, but against the conventions of married women her hair hung loose down her back. John’s eyes were drawn to her cleavage, emphasised clearly by the tight bodice of the dress. Her gaze met Johns. “And who do we have here?” 

“Rodney’s at home. This is John”. 

“Good morning” he greeted 

Jeannie lifted up the list. “We need a loaf of bread, one pound of butter, two pounds of floor, two pounds of salt, some sultanas, one ------“ 

“Before you go any further, I presume you’ve bought payment with you, or is that why your brother chose to stay at home?” 

Not recognising the sarcasm in her voice Jeannie continued “Rodney said he’d send over a side of mutton on Wednesday”. 

“Did he now”, she folded her arms over her ample bosom. “I need to eat as well Miss. A side of mutton is not acceptable. Indeed it won’t ever cover what is already owed. If I have to wait for either of your brothers to settle your account I’ll be waiting until doomsday. You can tell your brother if he sends me a whole sheep I’ll be more than happy to extend credit to the McKay family again”>

Jeannie looked stricken at her words, but she wasn’t prepared to give in without a fight. “We don’t owe you a full sheep”, she argued. 

John looked at the shopkeeper’s stubborn stance. He supposed that if he owned the house, then technically any bills outstanding against the house would have to be met by him. “Excuse me Mrs Emmagan”. 

“Yes……”, she looked at his wrinkled clothing and sniffed ………. “Sir?” 

Damn, he was definitely going to have to send for his things. “How much is owed by the McKay’s?” 

“I fail to see what that has to do with you.” 

“Well that depends”, he drawled, “do you want to get paid or not?” She pulled a ledger from underneath the counter and opened it. “They owe seven pounds eight”. It seemed as though Rodney hadn’t been able to pay the bill for some time. With a sigh John took out a ten pound note and placed it on the counter. “Give Jeannie what she needs from the list and credit the rest to the account. Change the name from McKay to Sheppard in the ledger”. Mrs Emmagan gasped at him for a moment but she was quick to pick up the note. 

Whilst Jeannie recommenced reading the list John wandered around the shop. From the variety of items it seemed as though this was the only shop in the area of this type, and from the prices the shopkeeper knew it. He paused before a jar of nougat. “Jeannie do you like nougat?” “Oh yes”, came the reply, “and Rodney loves it”. John opened the lid and removed a dozen pieces. 

“These as well please Mrs Emmagan”. He also handed her a jar of Gentleman’s Relish he’d spotted on one of the shelves. 

“Certainly Sir”, her manner much more helpful and servile now she’d been paid. She wrapped up the items into two parcels and passed them over to him. 

Leaving the shop they attached the two parcels to Puddlejumper’s saddle. He turned his head and gave John a disgruntled look. John hoisted Jeannie up into the saddle and swung up behind her. 

“Where did you get him?” she asked 

“I purchased him from the Earl of Montrose. I had him from a colt and a more stubborn beast you’ve never met. But we get on well”, he patted the horse and sent him off in a sedate walk away from the village. “My brother, the Marquis of Warefield, had custody of him for a while, but Carson doesn’t really like horses and I won him back”. 

“Good, he’s smashing”. 

“Where did you learn words like smashing?” It’s not really the sort of thing a young lady says.” 

She pouted. “You sound like Rodney. Kavanagh taught me, although I think it was only to annoy Rodney”. 

“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in you continuing then is there”, he grinned at her. “So do tell me, what do you do with your day?” 

“Well, I do my lessons, Rodney helps me. He’s amazing at mathematics. Then I help him sweep and clean although he complains about it. He hates housework. Then I feed the chickens and twice a week the two of us go to the far pasture to check on the cattle and sheep and bring back any milk. Now we no longer have a cook we have to buy butter. Rodney tried to make some once but all that happened was he got covered in milk. It was funny and he said some things he shouldn’t have done. When I laughed at him he went into a sulk. He hasn’t tried again”. 

John smiled as the image of a milked covered Rodney McKay entered his mind. 

“Rodney planed some cabbage and potatoes”, she carried on, “but I suppose the last storm probably ruined them”. 

“That’s a lot of work.” 

“Well Rodney says we have to eat and if we don’t do it who will. Mind you I do get sick of eating chicken and rabbit”. 

As she continued to chatter John though about the situation at Pegasus Hall. He’d been born into a privileged lifestyle and had always had someone at his beck and call, even in the arm there’d been somebody to cook and mend for him. His dislike of Kavanagh McKay deepened. Whatever his intentions had been, going and leaving his half brother to look after a falling down Hall and Jeannie without servants or much needed funds were appalling behaviour. 

“So who catches the rabbits?”, although he was certain he knew the answer. 

“Oh Rodney, he doesn’t like doing it. He can do anything”, she said proudly. 

John smiled “Yes, I’m beginning to realise just how efficient your brother is."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orrery in this chapter is like the one below:-
> 
>  
> 
> http://www.zodiacal.com/attic/smithsonian_orrery.jpg

Rodney pulled another book from the rubble hoping that he’d be able to save this one. So many of the items he’d managed to 'rescue' had been damaged beyond repair. He’d piled those items that couldn’t be saved in a pile in the corner. He flicked through the mathematical treatise, thankfully this wasn’t too damaged. 

 

He sighed and looked around what had once been an elegant drawing room but was now a jumble of broken furniture, roof beams and his broken bedroom furnishings all occupying the same space.

He picked up another piece of his orrery. The destruction of this hurt more than anything. It had taken him months to build, working on the writings and drawings of George Graham. He’d managed to rescue about two thirds of it so far and had put them carefully to one side in the hope that he would be able to restore it. He enjoyed working with his hands and had started making clocks, with the encouragement of his father, before he was 17. He had progressed on from that to the creation of his orrery but he still loved to make clocks when he had the chance and the funds to purchase parts. His father had been happy to support Rodney’s scientific interest while he had been alive and had provided him with the funds for his creations. 

Looking around the room again he wondered whether he’d be able to convince Major Sheppard that the deed was genuine after all, but only included the west wing.

“When did this happen?”

Rodney squeaked in surprise and turned towards the door. 

“Major Sheppard, I didn’t hear you”, he stammered, unsettled at the slow drawl. “It was a few nights ago”.

“John”, he was reminded. “I presume this was the drawing room”.

“Yes, together with what remains of my bedroom”.

“Just be grateful you and Jeannie were safe”, he commented looking around. “Have you managed to salvage much?” he pushed some of the rubble aside with the toe of his boot and bending down picked up a book. His eyebrows rose as he read the title. He opened the front cover just to see if he was right and on having his suspicions confirmed, passed the book over to Rodney. “Yours?” He asked in a non committal tone. He watched in interest as Rodney flushed bright red as he realised that he was holding Juliette by the Marquis De Sade.

“Of course not. It’s one of Kavanagh's”.

“Of course it is”, John replied. “You should read it, it’s quite interesting”.

Rodney hurriedly put the book to one side. “I don’t think so”.

“Why not, knowledge is always a good thing, don’t you think?” 

He took a step closer to Rodney. Rodney gulped and taking a hasty step back away from the Major, he stumbled. Before he could fall however John had caught him and pulled him flush up against his body, encasing him in both arms. Rodney let himself be held for a moment against the lean, but muscled form of the Major, before he tried to pull away. “You can let me go Major”. John released him slowly and stepped back. “Just returning the favour from last night”. In an abrupt change he asked “do you perchance have some paper and a pen?”

“Pardon”, Rodney was still flustered and John smiled.

“Paper and pen” 

“Of course, it’s kept in the morning room. Why do you need it?”

“Well as it seems that I’m going to be here for a while I need to write to my parent’s butler to send me some of my clothes. I left London in rather a hurry and didn’t have the chance to pack much”.

“Your parents employ a butler?” he asked scornfully.

“Of course they do”, John looked incredulous for a moment and then smacked his head in exasperation. “Of course with everything else that happened last night I forgot to fully introduce myself”. He held out his hand to Rodney. “Major John Sheppard, second son of the Duke of Highbarrow”.

He lowered his hand as Rodney just looked at him. “I do normally look more presentable than this you know”. Rodney continued to stare. “Never mind”, John said turning away. “Why should you believe me anyway, I’m a complete stranger to you. You must think I’m a simple minded fool”.

‘Finally’ thought Rodney, ‘he’s beginning to make sense’. “Not really, no”, he said kindly, “just confused and overwhelmed by everything”.

John turned back and stared at him in amazement. “Overwhelmed. You must be joking. Under whelmed is more like. I’d hope to sell this dump and go travelling again; maybe to the Americas, but with the state of this place I doubt I’ll get further than the Isle of Wight”.

“Well thank you very much”, Rodney snapped. “This dump as you call it is my ancestral home. It would be nice if you remembered that”. 

John lifted an eyebrow. “It was your ancestral home. At the moment it belongs to me, irrespective of what you think of the deed”. He kicked a broken glass figurine to one side, shattering it. He shook his head. “And I was crazy enough to believe that winning this place was good luck”.

“Well nobody’s forcing you to stay here. You’re welcome to leave at any time”, Rodney retorted.

John just looked at him for a very long moment. Rodney could read nothing in the hazel eyes; it was like a shutter had come down over them. “Oh, I’ll stay here for as long as it takes to sell the place. The question you have to ask yourself is what’s keeping you here”. He turned and left the room before Rodney could respond further.

Rodney continued to sort through the rubble although it took some time for his mind to turn away from the last comment that the Major had thrown at him. He loved Pegasus Hall and had foolishly hoped that Kavanagh would some how manage to find the funds to keep it maintained. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the option to leave, he’d turned down more than one proposal from their neighbour, Richard Cowen, the Earl of Deerhurst. Up until now he’d refused them. He had nothing against the Earl; indeed he was a close family friend of Kavanagh’s, even though he was some years older than both Kavanagh and Rodney. He had shown more than a brotherly interest in Rodney for some time now and had made his intentions clear. Rodney hadn’t been prepared though to leave the Hall. If however the Major wasn’t wrong and he did own the Hall Rodney would need to look to his and Jeannie’s futures. In the meantime, having an able bodied man around the house couldn’t hurt and he was sure he could persuade the Major to help out on some of the repairs that were needed.

After about an hour or so he stopped. It was dirty, exhausting work and he need to eat. With that thought in mind he climbed the stairs to his temporary bedroom to wash up and change his shirt. When he returned downstairs he could hear Jeannie laughing. It seemed that the Major could be of use if he could keep Jeannie entertained and stop her from running wild. Kavanagh had never been good with Jeannie, always shooing her away and directing any questions she might have to Rodney. 

The laughter stopped as Rodney cleared his throat, two sets of eyes filled with curiosity, turned his way. “Here”, he said, pushing the bundle in his arms to Sheppard. “I managed to find some of Kavanagh’s clothes, they should fit you and they’ll tide you over until your clothes arrive from London”.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Mr McKay. Thank you very much”. John took the bundle from him, brushing his fingers against Rodney’s as he did so.

Rodney flushed. “No need to thank me, I’m just being hospitable. They weren’t doing any good where they were and”, he eyes raking over John’s rangy form; “you do need some clean clothes. You’ll also need to change if you’re going to lend me a hand”.

John put the bundle to one side “lend you a hand with what?”

“Well, there are some things that I’m just not able to do. I’m sure it’s far below your station to do labouring work but I do need some help”. He watched as John folded his arms. “Such as?”

“There are leaks in the upstairs bedchambers and also in the roof of the dining room”. Rodney thought he’d start off with the easy stuff so as not to scare John off.

“So what you’re saying is that you want me to repair your roof?”

Rodney stepped forward and laying his hand on the Mayor’s arm he looked into his eyes, “No, Major, I want you to help repair your roof. I can’t afford to pay anybody to help and it does need repairing”.

“Hmm”, John narrowed his eyes. “Is it too much to ask that you have a ladder?”

Rodney smiled, the Major was going to help after all, “Well there’s one behind the stable block. You may as well change out there as well”.

John sighed. “All right”.

“You do know how to tar a roof don’t you?” Rodney asked.

“It’s a little late to be asking now isn’t it McKay, but yes thankfully for you I do”. John turned away. As he left the kitchen he called back “I’ll leave you and Jeannie to organise luncheon”.

“There’s tar and shingles behind the stable”, Rodney called after him, determined to have the last word.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

John looked down at himself in disgust. He should have remembered when he’d met Kavanagh McKay, that the man had been dressed like a popinjay. Although the clothes were clean and a decent fit the style and colours left something to be desired. John had picked out the most execrable coloured shirt just to ensure that he didn’t have to wear it for anything other than repair word. The trousers weren’t too unpleasant to the eye, being a light grey, but the shirt was an absolute horror, being such a bright green that John felt like one of the brightly coloured birds that he’d seen on his travels. The clothes were of a good quality and it was clear that Kavanagh had no qualms in spending monies on how he looked whilst Rodney seemed to wear nothing but basic shirts and trousers.

John pulled on his boots and strolled around the back of the stable block to find, as promised, ladder, shingles and barrel of tar.

He still felt extremely rotten and his head ached abominably. If it were up to him he would have waited until the morrow to do the task set by Rodney but the gathering clouds to the east persuaded him otherwise.

Besides that he’d never been the type of person easy with doing nothing. And, he reminded himself any labour expanded by him on repairing the hall could only increase the price when he came to sell it.

Whistling a vulgar soldier ditty and thankful for once that as a youth he’d hung around with the servants and repairmen employed by his father to maintain the buildings and grounds of Highbarrow Castle, John dragged the ladder over the back of the manor house. Propping it up against the wall he headed back for the rest of his supplies.

He was hunting around for a broom when he heard Rodney’s voice.

“You weren’t supposed to pay for the groceries”.

Startled he turned. Rodney stood framed in the doorway of the stable, hands on his hips and look of indignation on his face. His eyes blazed blue and in the sunlight his hair took on an edging of bronze. John drank him in. In his dreams of estate sales and travels around the world he’d not expected anybody like Rodney. John was used to pursuing and capturing whoever interested him and Rodney McKay certainly interested him like no other man had for some time. As far as he was concerned the chase had already begun.

“Well”, he drawled, “I was hungry and I had no desire to be bashed on the head by Mrs Emmagan. She was somewhat daunting” He grinned at Rodney and got a half smile in response.

Rodney ran his eyes up and down John’s form. “You are our guest and ask our guest you should not be paying for our supplies”.

John smiled again. “If you’d come in here five minutes ago I would have been your half naked guest”. He watched as Rodney flushed.

“Well I apologise, although”, he looked John up and down, “you’d probably looked better half naked than in those clothes. Kavanagh has no taste at all”.

John stroked the ruffle on the front of the shirt whilst looking at Rodney. “Well”, he responded, “if you‘d like me to take the shirt off I’d be more than happy to obliged”.

Rodney cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. I would be grateful however if you’d hold off on paying any more of our bills”.

“I doubt I could”, John commented dryly. “I don’t have bottomless funds to draw upon, that preserve belongs to my father and my brother, not I”. Picking up the broom that he’d spotted earlier he banged it against the wall a few times before heading back outside. Rodney followed closely behind him.

“All I’m saying Major Sheppard is we are more than capable of looking after ourselves and when Kavanagh comes home the debts will be paid off. And, you don’t have to bribe us by buying anything additional items like the bonbons or the ribbons for Jeannie”.

John stopped and turned to face him. Rodney nearly ran into him and had to put a hand against his chest to stop himself falling into John. John put his hand out and for the second time that day he held Rodney against him.

“Your confidence in your brother is misplaced I think but I hope you for your sake that I’m wrong”. I’m also curious as to what I could bribe you into. You’ve already said that I could stay didn’t you”. He pointed out with a soft smile. “Is there something else I should be asking of you?”

John realised that he liked the feel of Rodney against him and the soft gasps that the man made as he tried to calm himself. John pulled him closer. He wanted Rodney with a strength that surprised him. Rodney was stockier than the men that he normally took to his bed but John found himself wanting to run his hands over the broad shoulders, chest and upper arms. He wanted to feast on Rodney’s firm and luscious ass and hear the other man’s voice break as John made him orgasm. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of Rodney’s body. He realised with a shock that he wanted to be the first man to take Rodney, the first man to have him underneath him writhing in ecstasy whilst he covered him

Some of what he was thinking must have shown in his face as Rodney broke away from him with a gasp and turning, he fled back towards the house and away from John.


	8. Chapter 8

Rodney felt reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed particularly as there was nobody to light the fire for him. He might be more than willing to take on the burden of cleaning and cooking with the help of Jeannie, but a morning without a lit fire in the bedroom was when he really missed the servants. He’d been lying awake in bed for some time, his mind awhirl with thoughts of the previous day. 

To his surprise the Major had said nothing about the heated moments they’d shared. Shared right before Rodney’s precipitous flight back to the house, or, as he liked to think if it, his ‘strategic retreat.’ No matter how his mind tried to convince him that the Major was a befuddled fool duped by his brother, his body was more than aware of the Major’s appearance and the raw lust that showed in his eyes when he looked at Rodney. 

No, the Major had been courtesy himself when he’d come back into the house. He’d clearly washed up at the outside pump and proceeded to fall, with much gusto, on the meal Rodney and Jeannie had put together. Despite one or two glances from the Major Rodney had tried to carry on as normal and brought the conversation around to the goings on of the prince Regent and his cronies. Despite the Major’s pronouncement that he knew the Regent, a comment that Rodney didn’t believe for one moment, he and Jeannie had listened avidly to John’s stories of the latest London events. If there was one thing that Rodney loved as much as mathematics and engineering it was gossip. Now that Kavanagh had left for London he had had to rely on his friends Richard Cowen and Squire Hammond for any up to date news. He had at one time subscribed to The Times but that had been one of the first luxuries to go when the purse strings began to tighten. 

Despite the pointed glances from John the rest of the evening had gone well. The three of them had played a few hands of whist before Jeannie had retired to bed. Rodney poured them a glass each of father’s port and they settled down to read, both at ease with each other. It had been, Rodney realised, one of the most enjoyable evenings he’d spent for some time. 

As the evening drew to a close Rodney began to tense up, unsure as to whether or not John would attempt to touch him again. But the Major did nothing save flashing Rodney a warm smile as he bade him goodnight from the library door. Rodney went to bed trying to decide if he felt disappointed that John hadn’t attempted to kiss or touch him. 

\------------------------------ 

Rodney’s attention was pulled away from his thoughts by the sound of a metallic squeak. 

Then he heard the squeaking again, and he sat up. It sounded like the pump from outside the house. Curiously he left the bed, pulling his robe around him and made his way over to the curtains. Like his sister he’d taken one of the guest bedrooms in the east wing. He pushed open the curtains and gasped as he saw the sight below him. 

John Sheppard stood at the water pump. He wasn’t naked, he wore a pair of white wool breeches, however from the way Rodney's pulse sped at the sight of him, and the way he couldn’t take his eyes from the lean strong body below him, he thought the Major might as well have been completely undressed. 

Wet, black hair sat in flat defiance of its usual perky, gravity mocking nest. It clung to the nape of his neck, letting glistening cascades of water run down a flat, tanned stomach, making its way through a patch of dark hair. As if the whole thing wasn’t obscene enough the water forced John’s wool breeches to cling to a pert ass and lean, muscular thighs in a way that made Rodney breathless. The whole scene reminded Rodney of the filthy magazine articles Kavanagh would lock himself in the bedroom with, except Rodney wasn’t a pirate and John was far from being a scantily clad hussy or pouting cabin boy! Well…scantily clad, maybe, but Rodney couldn’t care less about semantics, because now John crouched under the spigot, stretching his breeches even tighter across his ass and Rodney’s higher brain functions fizzled out. Another squeak of the pump and a new rush of water poured down John’s head and bare back. By the time he stood and ran long fingers through the unruly mop Rodney would have given half his library to trace the water’s path with his tongue, and lips, and teeth and run hands along the smooth expanse of skin. Skimming hands over John’s buttocks as he knelt in front of him and – Rodney’s daydream ended without warning as John stopped his ministrations, glanced up and caught sight of him at the window.. 

 

Cursing Rodney stumbled backwards, he tin his haste to get away from the window he tripped over the corner of the bed and fell hard on his backside, the pain effectively ridding him of his burgeoning erection. It hurt but at least it jolted him back to reality. He was no love struck fool, he was far too old and had too many responsibilities to be acting like one. 

He deliberately turned away from the temptation outside the window and having washed up; he dressed in a plain blue shirt and brown trousers and went downstairs to prepare a breakfast of eggs and warm bread. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Rodney already had the breakfast prepared by the time that the Major entered the kitchen. He kept his head down and concentrated on his breakfast. Blushing was the last thing he wanted to do in front of their guest. Other than a ‘good morning’ the Major seemed inclined to simply get on with the business of eating, for which Rodney was grateful. 

“I gathered the eggs,” piped up Jeannie. 

“Did you?” John asked, with an indulgent smile. “All by yourself?” 

“Yes,” she answered proudly, “and the roosters didn’t scare me too much.” 

“Well you’re very brave. I don’t like roosters at all. Nasty little things.” 

“Yes, and they make lots of noise and they peck a lot.” 

“Well there are quite a few things like that,“ John told her. “The thing you have to remember is the more noise they make the more they’re likely to be scared of you.” Rodney caught the sideways glance the Major gave him from the corner of his eye and snorted into his tea. 

“Something wrong Rodney?” John asked. 

Rodney looked over at him. “No. Why, should there be?” 

“No, you just seem a little quiet.” 

“I’m fine thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with quiet is there?” 

Jeannie nudged John. “He’s always like this in the mornings. He used to drink coffee when we had some. He would drink one or two cups to wake him up but tea just doesn’t work.” John smiled at her. 

Rodney slammed his cup down on the table. “Why don’t you just discuss me as if I’m not here,” he snapped. He instantly felt guilty as her face fell. 

“There’s no need for that McKay, she was simply answering my question,” John defended her. “You don’t need to shout at her.” 

Rodney ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he told Jeannie. She smiled back at him. She hated Rodney being angry with her. 

“I thought I would ride into Pelford this morning. Do you need anything?” John asked. 

“No thank you. You bought more than enough yesterday.” 

“Can I come along?” Asked Jeannie. 

John smiled over at her. “Not today I’m afraid. I have some business to attend to”. 

Her face fell, “we can go for a ride later if you like,” he reassured her. 

She instantly brightened. “Oh yes please.” 

“No you may not Jeannie. We have more clearing up to do, you have some reading to attend to and let’s not forget out luncheon appointment with Squire Hammond.” 

“Who’s he?” asked John. 

“He’s a neighbour and a friend of the family. The local school is on his land and I’m on the education committee.” John gave a small smile at Rodney’s comment. 

“What!” Rodney bristled. 

“Oh nothing,” smiled John, “just can’t say I’m surprised that’s all.” 

“Really it’s none of your business. Besides, why do you go into Pelford?” 

John stared at him. “You’re awfully snappy this morning McKay. Any particular reason for that?” 

“Of course not,” Rodney snarled. 

“I see. Well it’s really none of your business why I’m going into Pelford is it.” Rodney flushed in embarrassment and looked away. 

John sighed and reaching over pressed his hand over the top of Rodney’s, taking it back when Rodney looked at him. “My apologies. That was uncalled for. I need to get a survey of the property and land carried out and for that I need to see a solicitor. Are there any in Pelford?” 

“There are a couple, but I’d be extremely grateful if you didn’t go spreading the news that you believe yourself to be the new owner of the estate, at least until we’ve heard from Kavanagh.” 

“If that would make you feel happier Rodney then I don’t have a problem with it. But I am the new owner and you do need to get used to that fact. But don’t worry; anything I say to the solicitor will be in confidence.” 

“Good”, Rodney stared at him, “but whatever you say Major until I’ve heard from Kavanagh you do not own Pegasus Hall or anything in it, are we understood!” 

John gazed at him in contemplation for a moment before rising to his feet. “Just so, I’ll see you later.” 

He turned back to them before leaving the room. “By the way Jeannie, how old is Squire Hammond?” 

“Oh ages old,” she replied wisely. “He’s must be nearly a hundred years old.” 

“Why on Earth would you want to know that?” asked Rodney. 

John looked straight at him. “You’re looking very handsome this morning Rodney. That blue shirt brings out the colour of your eyes. I just wondered whose benefit it was for.” 

With a smile he had turned again and left the room before Rodney could say anything. Jeannie giggled, pulling him from his thoughts of ‘cocky and good looking Majors. 

“I think he likes you,” she whispered conspiratorially. 

“Oh be quiet.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

John entered the office and closed the door behind him. He’d stopped at the General Store to ask for directions to the closest solicitors. Mrs. Emmagen had been happy to direct him, no doubt filing the information for gossip later. To thank her he’d purchased a bagful of lollipops that he’d spotted the day earlier. 

“How can I help you Mr?” 

“Major John Sheppard,” John stepped forward and shook the hand extended to him. “And you would be?” 

“Maybourne, Harry Maybourne at your service. Please take a seat.” 

John sat as indicated. “And am I right in presuming you’re not Maybourne Senior?” 

“That would be right. I’m afraid my father passed on recently.” 

“My condolences.” 

“Thank you. Now as I said, how can I help you?” 

John looked around the office. From the trappings the law firm seemed to be successful, and as for Harry Maybourne, he looked as sleek and well fed as one of John’s mothers’ Persian cats. 

“Well it concerns Pegasus Hall.” 

At his words Maybourne lost his air of indolence. “The McKay Family.” 

“Yes. I should ask. Do you act for them?” 

Maybourne pursed his lips as though he’d tasted something sour. “We did. My father was the family solicitor. He acted for the senior McKay most of his working life.” 

“Can I ask what happened to end the relationship?” 

“Kavanagh McKay,” Maybourne spat out. 

“Ah. I only met him the once and I can honestly say I wasn’t impressed with him one little bit.” 

“You will find Major Sheppard that very few people locally have anything good to say about Kavanagh McKay. Probably one of the few that does or did would be Richard Cowen, the Earl of Deerhurst. They were quite good friends I believe until Kavanagh took up with his London friend, Kolya. However, back to your question. Upon inheriting from his father Kavanagh decided that he could dispense with this firm’s services, an action I believe to be directly related to my father’s heart attack. So, no, this firm no longer acts or wishes to act for the McKay family and although I hold no ill will against Rodney or Jeannie personally, I would not help them in any way.” 

“I see.” John stared at him for a moment and then took the title deed from his pocket and handed it over to the solicitor. “What do you think of this?” 

Maybourne took the document and John stood and wandered over to the window, waiting whilst the solicitor read the document. 

“How did you come by this?” 

John sat back down and related to him the events leading up to the card game and how he came to find himself the owner of Pegasus Hall. “It is genuine isn’t it?” 

“Oh yes, it’s one hundred percent genuine.” 

John sighed in relief. “Good. That’s what I thought. It’s been a while though since I’ve looked at land deeds. I though it was real but it’s always good to get a legal opinion don’t you think.” He grinned at Maybourne. 

“Indeed,” was the dry response. Maybourne drew his hands together and looked down at his polished nails. “What do you want from me?” 

“Well, I’m not going to sell until Kavanagh returns to the Hall and we can settle this once and for all. Do you think we need to draw up a new deed?” 

“Much as I would like to say yes, and charge you for it, it’s not necessary.” 

John burst out laughing. “You’re very forthright for a solicitor aren’t you. You do a good job for me and I’ll put you in touch with my brother. He’s always on the look out for new legal advisors.” 

And your brother would be?” 

“The Marquis of Warefield.” 

Maybourne raised an eyebrow. “Then you would be the second son of the Duke of Highbarrow?” 

John’s surprise showed. “Oh, don’t worry Major. Unlike a number of my neighbours I do visit London on a regular basis and I have heard of your family. But back to the matter in hand, what do you want from me?” 

“I need a survey of the estate carrying out and I need you to start a discreet search for a prospective purchaser. And I do mean discreet. Once Kavanagh has returned I want to be able to sell sooner rather than later.” 

John had no wish for Rodney to find out what he had set in place until absolutely necessary. For some reason, over the last couple of days Rodney’s peace of mind had become important to him, and he had no idea why. 

Maybourne nodded. “Very well, I’ll start forthwith.” 

John stood and shook his hand again. “My thanks Mr Maybourne. I’ll be by in a few days to see how things are progressing. If I hear anything from Kavanagh in the meantime I’ll let you know.” 

That done, he left the office and set out from Pelford. He wanted to ride the borders of the Pegasus Estate. Although he had authorised the survey to be carried out he wanted to see, just for himself, what exactly he had won in that blasted card game.


	9. Chapter 9

John looked over at the well kept fields on the opposite side of the creek with envy. As far as he was aware these fields and the well fed sheep and cattle grazing there belonged to the Earl of Deerhurst.

Completely different from the land this side of the creek, the land that was now his. The ride around the estate had been illuminating. As John rode through the fields weeds rose to grasp at his ankles and burrs stuck to Puddlejumper’s flanks. Tumbled fences and rotting sheds gave clear evidence of a neglect that had begun years before. John was surprised. From the way Rodney spoke about Pegasus Hall he had automatically assumed the estate had been well maintained. 

Although Pegasus Hall was a mere shack compared to the sprawling splendour of his father and brothers’ estates, it was a goodly size. Granted the west wing was now in shambles but you could tell at some point the Hall had been well cared for. The estate was a lot bigger than he had initially realised. Were it well tended and in good working order it would have seen him set for the rest of his life. As it was, he’d be lucky to receive a full return on his initial stake. He sighed and brought Puddlejumper to a halt. Turning in his saddle he heard the distinctive sound of a musket being primed. He slowly raised his hands. “Hello?” he called.

He watched as a tall man stepped out from the bushes to the right of him. He looked to be in his early 40s, bearded with tousled brown hair hanging to his shoulders. His brown eyes stared directly into John’s and he held the musket out in front of him, pointed directly at John.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” He asked.

“I’m a friend of Rodney McKay,” John responded. “Do you know him?”

“Aye,” he slowly lowered the musket. “Chris Halling.”

John dismounted and held out his hand. “Major John Sheppard”, he winced as his hand was taken in a very firm grip.

“Kavanagh McKay’s my landlord. Do you know him?”

“I’ve met him,” John replied. “This is your farm then?” John looked around at the weeds.

“Aye. It doesn’t look much at the moment. The spring crop was ruined by the weather and Mr McKay was unable to get new seed for his tenants.” 

John nodded. “I see. You think the McKay’s are good landlords?”

Halling looked at him. “I like Mr Rodney and Miss Jeannie just fine,” he responded, not answering the question at all.

“Yes, so do I.” He looked the man over more carefully. He was taller than John and it was clear from his handshake that he was used to hard work. John instinctively liked him, Halling reminded him of many of the men he’d spent time with both in the military and on his father’s estates. He was certainly direct and that was a trait that John valued. John wondered if he could turn the meeting to his advantage and see whether he could impress a certain blue eyed gentleman at the same time. He grinned. He was a gambler through and through – nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Would you be willing to enter into a trade?” he asked Halling.

“What sort of trade?” the man stared back at him uncertainly.

“Well, Rodney and Jeannie lost part of the roof in the last storm. It needs repairing and I’m not able to do all of the work on my own. You have no crop at present and I could do with another pair of hands.” 

Halling looked at him. “Rodney McKay would never ask for charity,” he told John. “He’s too proud.”

“Rodney’s not asking. I am. You help me and then maybe we can discuss your weed problem.” He watched as Halling thought it over, hoping the man’s decision would go his way. Finally Halling grinned and stuck out his hand. “You have a deal Sheppard.”

 

*************************

Squire Hammond turned away from the window and gazed at Rodney in amazement. “Personally I think you should have called the constable straight away. The man clearly sounds delusional and there is no guarantee that you and Jeannie are safe.”

Rodney bristled. “I don’t mean to be rude George but I’m more than capable of looking after Jeannie and myself.”

The Squire returned his gaze steadily. “Simmer down Rodney. You say this man is an ex soldier, all I’m saying is be careful. Make sure you keep your pistol close to hand.”

“And the point of that would be? You know full well that I’m useless at hitting anything, that’s if I manage even to load the damn thing before he attacks me.”

“Even you can’t miss at point blank range Rodney. Make sure you keep the pistol loaded. If nothing else it’s a deterrent.”

Rodney sighed. “Alright George, I’ll keep it close to hand if only for Jeannie’s sake.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep the Major away from him or not. He flushed and looked down at the table. “To be honest George I feel sorry for him.” ‘Sorry was a much better word to use than attracted’ he thought.

The Squire sat and took a sip of his tea. Rodney watched him in fond exasperation. Squire Hammond had always been like a second father to him, but there were times when he fussed as much as a woman.

“Why do you feel sorry for him?” 

“Well he’s clearly confused.” Rodney replied. “Heaven knows what Kavanagh said to him.”

“Rodney, what are you going to do if his story turns out to be true? You can’t estate the fact that this is something Kavanagh might well have done.”

Rodney shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“You may have to,” the Squire retorted. “You do realise you and Jeannie are more than welcome to stay here don’t you?”

Rodney shook his head again. He was getting tired of people thinking he needed help. “Thank you George but we’ll sort something out. I’m perfectly able to take care of Jeannie and myself.”

The Squire watched him kindly, sympathy in his grey eyes. “Sometimes pride can be dangerous Rodney. Handle things as you will but you know where I am if you need me.”

Rodney laughed shortly. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour George!”

“Don’t you?” was the cryptic response.

 

************************************

“Rodney will you look at that.” Rodney followed Jeannie’s gaze to the house. John stood on the lower part of the roof, bare-chested, handing shingles to Chris Halling. The sweat reflected of his manly chest and Rodney hungrily ran his eyes over John’s lean but muscled form.

“Hello John,” Jeannie called, waving. “Hello Mr Halling.”

Grinning John swept a bow to the two of them and gave an additional salute to Rodney. Rodney thought he probably shouldn’t continue to stare but John looked far too delicious for him to avert his eyes and it was with supreme effort that he tore his gaze from him to look at his companion. “Mr Halling, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Halling smiled. “Sheppard and I made a trade.”

Rodney shielded his eyes against the sun. “What sort of trade?” he asked.

“That’s between we traders,” John interrupted. Rodney snorted. He could see it would be pointless to press them. “Would you like something to drink then?”

“Lemonade would be delightful,” John returned, wiping at the sweat glistening on his brow.

Jeannie giggled. “I’ll make it,” she called, and skipped into the kitchen. Rodney followed, forcing himself not to glance back.

John turned back to help Halling. They’d laid out one whole corner of the roof before Rodney had arrived but there was plenty more for them to do before twilight.

“Whoa there,” John turned as he heard the sound of hooves clattering below him.

He watched as a grey gelding came to a halt and its rider swung himself down. John would have guessed him to be in his late 30s, his short curly light brown hair slightly greying. He straightened and brushed at his jacket. John took note of his well built stocky physique. There was a dangerous air about him. He tensed as the man looked up at him. “You boy, come down here and take my horse,” his clipped tones rang out. John looked down at him. “Stable him yourself,” he answered.

He stared up at John in disbelief. “Do you know who I am you impudent oaf?” came his angry retort. John smiled gaily down at him. “Fraid not. Should I?” 

“Impertinence. You need a good whipping.” The man angrily turned and led his horse towards the stables. John looked over at Halling’s snort of laughter. “What?” Halling shook his head. “You’ll see,” he told John.

************************************

“Rodney!”

Rodney turned away from Jeannie as he heard his name being called. “Richard…” he stopped as he took in Cowen’s expression.

“Is something wrong?” he asked

“Where the devil did you find that impertinent servant?” He flung himself into one of the kitchen chairs. Rodney stared at him in surprise. “Pardon. What impertinent servant?”

“That man tiling your roof,” he gestured angrily in the direction of the door.

“Which one?” Rodney asked in what he considered to be his most reasonable tone. Clearly Richard didn’t think so.

“Blast it Rodney. I have no idea what his name is. Why would I? He was tall and thin with messy dark hair.” His eyes narrowed as Rodney flushed. “Rodney…..”

“Oh. Well that would be John.” Rodney glanced away from him to Jeannie. “Jeannie I think you should go and take some lemonade to John and Halling.” Jeannie filled two glasses and left the kitchen with them. Rodney glanced back nervously at Cowen.

“John?” Cowen’s tone turned dangerous. Rodney ran his hand through his hair. “He, well, he….,” he began to stammer.

“Sit down Rodney and start again.” Rodney sat with a sigh. Cowen watched in appreciation as Rodney pulled back his shoulders, stretching his shirt over his chest and outlining his nipples. He managed to stop himself from licking his lips in anticipation. There were times when he wished he could forego the courting game and simply take what he wanted. “Rodney?” he said again.

“I don’t really know how to start. He arrived here a few nights after the storm. We thought he was a burglar. We managed to disarm him and we tied him up.” Rodney began to pick nervously at the table with his right hand until Cowen leaned over and took the hand between his own gloved hands. Rodney stilled and looked over at him, the bright blue of his eyes accentuated by the colour of his shirt.

“So why,” Cowen asked quietly, “is he working on your roof instead of having been taken into the custody of the constable?” His eyes hardened as Rodney looked away from him. Rodney was one of the most open people he knew; it was one of the things that he found to be most worthwhile about him. “Rodney.” With a sigh Rodney looked back at him. “He told me that he won Pegasus Hall from Kavanagh in a card game.” Rodney pulled his hand back as Cowen surged to his feet.

“He what…!” Before Rodney could answer him he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind him. 

“You’re Squire Hammond?” 

Rodney jumped as John’s soft voice came from behind Cowen. He looked past him to John. John had pulled his shirt back on, but it hung loose and open revealing his chest. Damp black hair clung to his forehead and neck. John closed the door and came further into the room. Cowen glared at him. “No, I’m not Hammond. I’m Richard Cowen, the Earl of Deerhurst.” He gave John a tight smile. “And who might you be sir?”

John delayed a moment before he stripped off one of his heavy work gloves to offer his hand to the Earl. “Major John Sheppard.” Cowen returned the handshake, although Rodney noted that he hadn’t removed his riding glove, and somehow – even though Rodney couldn’t quite determine why, that seemed significant.

Cowen turned and sat again, this time next to Rodney. He looked over at John. “I understand from Rodney that you say you own Pegasus Hall.”

John pulled one of the chairs back and sat, his lean figure stretched out as he crossed his legs in front of him. “That’s correct, although Rodney is waiting until he hears from Kavanagh before he will believe me.” John smiled over at Rodney. Cowen glared at him, “and in the meantime where are you staying?” he asked John.

John grinned at him. “Why here of course. Rodney has been kind enough to provide me with sleeping accommodation.” He smiled lazily at Rodney again. Cowen’s eyes narrowed as he noted the way Rodney flushed.

“Please tell me he’s lying Rodney.”

“He’s sleeping on the floor of the library Richard. I couldn’t exactly turn him out, he was injured.”

He doesn’t look very injured to me now.” Cowen’s eyes raked up and down John. “He can’t stay here.”

Rodney stared back at him, blue eyes meeting brown. I think that’s up to me to decide, don’t you Richard? Are you questioning me?” he said quietly.

Cowen’s face reddened in anger, he sputtered for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Of course I would never question your good sense, but you know I worry about you being here all alone, just you and Jeannie.”

Rodney put a hand on his arm and smiled up at him. “I know, and I appreciate your concern. But it’s really not necessary Richard. Truly.”

“Even so, I would feel so much better if you would – that is, if you and Jeannie would stay at Deerhurst until Kavanagh’s return.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed at the second mention of charity that day. Everyone seemed to want him to abandon Pegasus Hall as though having Kavanagh present made any real difference whatsoever. “That isn’t necessary either.”

“At least let me help pay for some of the repairs to dear old Pegasus Hall.”

“Very kind of you,” replied Rodney, “but again, unnecessary. As you can see from outside Richard we have matters well in hand.”

“Well, yes, but…..”

“He said he didn’t need your help Cowen,” John interrupted. Cowen turned on him. “And I will thank you to keep your nose out of matters that don’t concern you. I have known Rodney for a long time; indeed he knows how I feel about him.” He took Rodney’s right hand proprietarily and kissed the palm before turning back to John. “If I choose to offer my help in maintaining Pegasus Hall it’s my business.”

John smiled at him affably although Cowen noted the smile never reached his eyes. “But as we’re already said Pegasus Hall is mine and I neither want nor require your aid.”

“It wasn’t offered to you.” He let go of Rodney’s hand and stood. “I think you require further investigation Major Sheppard, if that’s your real name. As I’m the local magistrate I intend to make sure that’s taken care of immediately.” His eyes raked John scornfully before he turned back to Rodney. He brushed the back of his hand over Rodney’s cheek. “I have to go,” he told him.

“I’ll walk you out.” Rodney stood and followed him out, waiting in the yard until he came back with his mount. Cowen mounted his horse and he looked down at Rodney. “Be careful Rodney. I want you to be safe.”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Rodney replied, wondering what had upset his friend so much. Other than his annoying habit lately of offering to lend him large sums of money, which thankfully hadn’t begun until after Kavanagh left, he was unexceptionally pleasant. In addition to that, he was his one and only suitor. Cowen saluted him. “I’ll see you later dear heart.” He snapped the reins and his gelding turned towards the drive. Rodney watched until he was out of sight, then, furious he went back to the kitchen to find John. He had vanished but Jeannie was sat back down at the table drinking lemonade. “Where is he?” he asked, teeth clenched.

“He went to the stables,” Jeannie said pointing. “Are you mad?”

“No,” he said brightly. “I merely need to clear up a little misunderstanding.” He turned and left the room.

John was brushing down Puddlejumper when Rodney stormed into the stable and stomped to a halt.

“How dare you!” he snapped, hands on his hips. John turned to face him. “How dare I what?”

“You promised you wouldn’t go about announcing your supposed ownership of my estate!”

“I believe you had already told him,” he corrected. Rodney sputtered in denial. John dropped the brush into a bucket and continued. “Besides, he was practically drooling on you. You should thank me.”

John’s apparent calmness didn’t soothe Rodney’s pounding heart in the least. “He’s a dear friend,” he protested, “and he wasn’t drooling over me.”

“Oh please. Of course he was. Anyway, that’s beside the point. If he were such a good friend then he should have offered to climb up on the roof and help us.”

“Oh don’t be so ridiculous. He’s a nobleman.”

“Not much of one. He hadn’t even the manners to remove his gloves when shaking hands.”

Rodney wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he knew for certain that it was John’s fault. “You know nothing about him,” he snapped, “and I’d be grateful if you didn’t run my few acquaintances away!”

He moved to storm past John when his arm was grabbed and he was spun to face him. As he took a breath to shout again John leaned down and softly touched his lips to Rodney’s. 

“My apologies,” he said, straightening.

Rodney blinked, realising he was leaning up towards John he moved back a step.   
“What…what for?” he stammered.

“For running your acquaintances away.”

Rodney struggled to remember what they’d been arguing about. “And the kiss?” he demanded, trying to rally his indignation when all he wanted was for John to kiss him again – immediately, so this time he could memorize it.

John smiled. “That wasn’t a kiss Rodney. That was just practice. You’ll know when I kiss you for real.”

John turned and left the stable leaving Rodney staring after him.


	10. Chapter 10

Richard Cowen, Earl of Deerhurst, stood outside the Pegasus Hall kitchen door, wondering if Rodney was going to make him go through the humiliation of knocking at the servants’ entrance before he let him in. He had come to Pegasus Hall this evening on a special mission. He had dressed accordingly in new boots and clothes. He knew he cut a fine figure and he trusted that Rodney would appreciate the efforts he had gone to on his behalf. Finding the front entrance of the house boarded up he had made his way to the back of the house. Wading through the muddle and drizzle in his new boots, fresh from Hohy’s in London, had done nothing to improve his fraying temper.

Neither did the presence of that bastard Sheppard. He deserved a good flogging, and as Deerhurst hoped, he would be the one delivering it.

Finally the door opened, letting the scent of baked chicken and potato pie escape out to the cluttered yard.

“Good evening Richard,” Rodney said warmly, stepping aside to allow him entry.

“Something smells delightful.” The Earl smiled, taking Rodney’s hand and bringing it to his lips. Rodney smiled back at him.

“Something certainly is delightful.” Sheppard sat at the kitchen table, half a wedge of pie stuffed into his mouth.

“Would you like some Richard?” Rodney motioned him towards the table. Cowen took the seat furthest from Sheppard. Apparently they were to dine in the kitchen. He shuddered inwardly at the thought. How common. “None for me thank you Rodney. I’ve already eaten”. He looked around, “where’s Jeannie?” he asked.

“She’s abed, it’s been a long and exhausting day for her,” Rodney answered setting down a glass of water in front of him.

“Pray tell,” he darted a quick look at Sheppard, wanting to strike the smug look from his face. Rodney glanced between the two of them, the tension in the room beginning to make him nervous. John smiled at him and pushed his empty plate to one side. “That was superb thank you,” he smiled up at Rodney.

Cowen clenched his fist under the table. “Rodney?”

Rodney sat down next to him; Cowen shifted his leg so it rested against Rodney’s. Rodney gave him a quick look but didn’t move his leg away.

“There’s been an unusual amount of activity here today, and Jeannie’s been cooped up inside because of the weather. As you’ll have seen from the front of the house the main entrance door’s been removed for repair. Major Sheppard was kind enough to help with the removal.”

John leant back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, his shirt riding up to show the tanned taut line of his stomach. Cowen glared at him as Rodney seemed transfixed by the flesh on show. John smiled over at the Earl, knowing full well the effect he was having on Rodney. Cowen unclenched his fist and placed his hand on Rodney’s thigh. Other than a quick intake of breath Rodney gave no indication of the hand softly stroking the top of his thigh, but John had noted his reaction and he narrowed his eyes at Cowen. The Earl turned to Rodney.

“Rodney could we talk privately please.”

Rodney stood and smiled at him. “Of course Richard, shall we adjourn to the Drawing Room?” He turned to John, “if you will excuse us Major.”

John rose to his feet and gave a half bow to Rodney. “Of course, I’ll go and make sure that Puddlejumper is settled for the night.” He turned and gave a curt nod to Cowen “Deerhurst.”

“Sheppard.” Cowen watched in pleasure as the Major left the kitchen. He turned as Rodney touched his elbow. “Richard, shall we?”

“Of course, after you.”

He followed Rodney out of the kitchen to the Drawing Room, his eyes following the round backside in front of him.

He closed the Drawing Room door behind him and crossing the room sat on the settle by the fire. Rodney poured two snifters and brandy and handed onto to him, before sitting on the settle next to him. Cowen raised his glass to Rodney “alone at last,” he took a sip and watched Rodney do the same. It was clear that Rodney was nervous as he looked everywhere but at Cowen. The Earl placed one of his hands on Rodney’s arm; Rodney took another quick gulp of brandy and looked at him. 

“Rodney, I have asked you before and I will ask again, please let me help you and Jeannie. I would be happy to hire a governess for Jeannie and a housekeeper for you. You shouldn’t have to cook and clean the house yourself Rodney. It is after all a woman’s place to do such tasks.” 

Rodney took another sip of the brandy, before answering. “Thank you Richard but I can’t take your money. Jeannie and I will be fine and the Major is helping with repairs.”

With difficulty Cowen refrained from frowning. “Rodney, please. This is too much. You must listen to reason.”

“Richard…”

“This is no way for you to live.” Cowen said. “I insist that you and Jeanie come and stay with me at Deerhurst. I ask you to come as my guest, both of you.” Cowen wanted to grab Rodney by the shoulders and convince him how he felt but he’d been playing a patient game up until now. He was beginning to run out of patience though and having this Sheppard fellow around to distract Rodney from his situation could only make matters more difficult as far as he was concerned.

“Richard, I know you want to help but it would be wrong of me to take your charity.” Rodney said

“But you’re willing to accept aid from Sheppard, who is a stranger to you, and has no feelings for you, unlike myself.””

Rodney looked away from him in discomfort.

Cowen put his glass down and leaning forward he took the glass out of Rodney’s hand and placed it on the side, before grasping both of Rodney’s hands in his.

“If you will not come to Deerhurst as my guest then come as my Consort.”

Rodney pulled his hands away and standing up he walked away from the Earl to the windows. He turned back towards him. “I know you want to help, and I thank you for your continuing kindness but I will not marry you to secure your assistance with my home.”

“Then marry me because I love you.”

For a long moment Rodney remained silent. “My Lord, I do thank you again for your kind regard. However, my duty keeps me here. My brother and sister need me here.

Hot anger began curling up Cowen’s spine. He was tired of hearing Rodney’s excuses. “So you’ve said before. And I do respect you for it, trust me. You must realise though Rodney that eventually Kavanagh will marry and Jeannie will grow up, and you will have no place or status here.”

He watched as Rodney reddened in anger. “That’s a cruel thing to say Richard.”

“I don’t mean to be cruel Rodney, nor would I ever want to hurt you. You have to start being honest with yourself about the future. You will have no place here and you will lose your home. I want to marry you, have wanted to marry you for a long time. If your father were still alive I would have asked him for his permission a long time ago.”

Rodney nodded his eyes downcast and Cowen’s heart leapt. Finally, Rodney had seen the sense in what he said, and once he became his Consort the first of his problems would be over.

It was vitally important that he marry Rodney McKay. It was fortunate that he found him attractive although he would still have been prepared to wed and bed him even if he’d been a raddled old peacock. Luckily for him Rodney was good looking, with an arse to die for. A little too intelligent and inquisitive for his own good, but Cowen was sure he could beat that out of him once they were married. Cowen wanted nothing more than to have Rodney under him as he took his virginity.

He’d always been interested in Rodney but since the death of his own father he’d done everything he could to insinuate himself further into the family and to make himself a worthwhile prospect as a husband. He’d been shocked to the marrow upon reading the documents in relation to the Deerhurst Estate. His father had been a fool and a gambler and had lost the majority of the family money years ago. In desperation he’d gone to his neighbour for help. As far as Cowen was concerned a noble did not sell his land and certainly not to an untitled wastrel like the elder McKay, no matter what his monetary position. He could only be grateful that the transaction had been a secret between the two parties, the documents drawn up in secret. 

Since the deaths of their fathers the McKay Estate had fallen further into disrepair whilst the Deerhurst estate had risen like a phoenix from the ashes. Richard Cowen might have been many things but a good Estate Manager he definitely was. The Deerhurst estate was now well worth over one hundred thousand pounds. He shuddered to think what would happen if the younger McKay’s ever found out that they owned the Deerhurst Estate. Kavanagh would no doubt sell it to subsidise his life of indulgence whilst Rodney would use the monies to save Pegasus Hall, not caring what happened to the Deerhurst family.

Life would have been far simpler had Rodney simply accepted the loan of money from him. That way he could have reclaimed Deerhurst as repayment whenever he chose.

He’d even considered marrying Kavanagh for a while but Kavanagh had made it plainly clear that he wasn’t interested in Cowen. Marrying Rodney and having him convince Kavanagh to hand over Deerhurst, his new home, was by far the wiser course of action. If everything went as he planned Rodney would be his consort before Kavanagh returned from London.

He stood and walked over to Rodney. Putting his arm on his shoulder he turned him around until he was looking at him.

“Rodney would you please think about it. You know how I feel about you, damn it how I’ve felt about you for years. It would be good between us.” He held his eyes. “Please.”

Rodney looked back at him before nodding. “Thank you”, Cowen smiled and placing his hands on either side of Rodney’s head he leant down and traced Rodney’s lips with his tongue. “Let me in Rodney.” He watched in satisfaction as Rodney closed his eyes and leant in towards him, his mouth opening in invitation, an invitation Cowen wasn’t going to refuse. Pulling Rodney flush up against him his tongue licked around the lips again before entering. Rodney groaned and put his hands on Cowen’s hips. Cowen thrust more with his tongue, kissing Rodney deeply, tasting him. He exulted as Rodney responded to him, the soft gasps Rodney made as he continued to plunder Rodney’s mouth.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Rodney jumped back, pulling away from him. Cowen caught his hand, forestalling him. He turned and glared at Sheppard who stood in the doorway to the room.

“I beg your pardon,” he snapped. “Mr McKay and I were having a private conversation.”

Sheppard’s eyebrows rose. “Right. A conversation. Is that what they’re calling it nowadays.”

Rodney pulled away from Cowen and went and sat back down by the fire, embarrassment writ across his features. He tuned back towards the Major. “You Sir are an interloper in this house, and I’ll thank you not to disturb Rodney and me.”

Sheppard ignored him, holding up a fob watch in his fingers and keeping his attention on Rodney. “I found this in the yard. Is it yours?” Cowen strode over to him and ripped the watch from his hand. “It’s mine. Now if you’ll please leave us.” He turned his back on the Major. “Rodney?”

Rodney looked over at him. “I think it best if you you go now Richard. It’s getting late. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Rodney stood and walked over to him. He didn’t look at the Major once. “I’ll see you out Richard.”

Cowen glanced at Sheppard and for a brief moment he paused. Sheppard hadn’t moved but his gaze when he caught Cowen’s was dangerous. He followed Rodney from the room and back through the house to the kitchen. Rodney pulled open the door. “Good evening, Richard.”

Taking a last opportunity, he leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I do hope you will consider my offer.”

“I…I shall,” Rodney answered.

The Earl blinked, brining his attention back to his prize. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Wadsworths.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Deerhurst stepped out into the yard to collect his carriage. At least he finally seemed to be making progress although Sheppard’s timing was damnable. One thing had become clear however this evening, he didn’t care how but Major John Sheppard was going to have to be gotten rid of.

***************************** 

TWO WEEKS LATER

Rodney sat with John in the kitchen drinking tea. Jeannie was off somewhere outside and the two of them were taking a much needed break from working on the house. John had been at the Hall now for nearly three weeks and it seemed as though he’d been there forever. He fit into their routine effortlessly. Rodney almost began to hope that Kavanagh wouldn’t arrive for a few more weeks. He was enjoying spending his time with John, and Jeannie had taken to him like a long lost friend. Since John had come to Pegasus Hall Rodney had stopped being lonely. 

John now had a platoon, as he and Jeannie called them, of local men offering to help with the house. Rodney couldn’t remember the last time that Pegasus Hall had so many people visiting. One thing was certain he hadn’t had time to be bored, nor could he remember the last time he’d had so much attention paid to him, both by the Earl and now the Major. Richard had said nothing further about marriage but it was clear he was courting Rodney, every couple of days he would appear with a gift or to ask Rodney to go for a ride with him in his phaeton. He had kissed him on more than one occasion, his kisses both exciting and scaring Rodney in their avid hunger.

The Major hadn’t kissed him and Rodney found himself thinking about that moment in the stable and that ‘not kiss’ that the Major had bestowed upon him, and wondering when the Major would really kiss him. The tension between Richard and the Major was palpable and they reminded Rodney of two bull terriers standing off, with Rodney as the juicy bone in between the pair of them. The Major was charming but charm along couldn’t explain the way Rodney’s pulse raced every time he saw him. The Major would say completely innocent things to him and then would look at Rodney and smile, that soft smile that Rodney thought was just for him. Rodney would flush and then get angry at himself for flushing and then he would become aggravated at the Major for causing it.

“Mr McKay.” Rodney looked up as Halling stood at the doorway to the room. “Walter bought the post.” He held some letters out. Rodney motioned him in and took the letters from him. “Thank you Halling”. The man doffed his cap and left the room.

Rodney looked down at the letters. One of them immediately caught his attention.

“Kavanagh…. Finally!”

He broke the seal and unfolded the paper. John was silent, and he wondered if he realised the charade was finally up. Rodney smoothed the parchment out on his lap and began to read. 

‘Dear Brother’, he read. ‘I received your letter about Sheppard arriving at Pegasus. Would you please just for once behave yourself and try and act in a reasonable fashion – his family could ruin me in London.’ Rodney stopped and looked over at John, something cold and dreadful tightening in his chest. He continued reading. ‘Kolya has invited me to Madrid after the Season has finished. I think some of his cronies are going onto Paris after and I’m sure they’ll let me tag along with them. Capital bunch of chaps really.’ John watched as the colour faded from Rodney’s face and he began to shake. ‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t win the money to save the Hall, but Kolya tells me it’s all for the best. He says that my spirit was never meant to be contained in the country. This is my chance to get out and make my fortune. I know you’ll manage Rodney – you always do. Just try not to be too bossy and managing and please don’t antagonise Sheppard. I’ll write from Spain. 

Your brother, K McKay’

Rodney sat in silence and stared at the letter, unable to look away. He’d done it. He’d taken the opportunity presented to him and run like the coward he really was. Rodney had lost the Hall just as it began to look as though they’d saved it. All this time thinking that the Major had been helping them, when really he had just been helping himself. He blinked away tears and stood, letting the letter fall to the floor.

“Rodney?” John said softly

“If you’ll excuse me Major,” turning he fled the room.

John retrieved the letter from the floor where Rodney had dropped it. He read it through and then tossed it to one side. “Bastard,” he muttered.

Kavanagh McKay was a complete and utter swine, and if he were in front of John right at this moment John would probably shoot him for what he’d done to Rodney and Jeannie. He had made his brother and sister homeless and he simply didn’t care. John wondered what Rodney would do, he knew that the Earl had asked him to be his Consort, but he didn’t want Rodney to take that route and prostitute himself for him and Jeannie’s safety. He was now undisputed owner of Pegasus Hall, for whatever that was worth. A little more cleaning up and he might even be able to sell it for enough to give him three or four years of freedom before he had to go crawling back to His Grace and beg for employment. He supposed he should be happy at least.

All he could think about though was that Rodney and Jeannie had lost their home and their future. It wasn’t his fault – it really wasn’t, counting cards wasn’t cheating, precisely.

“Damnation,” he swore and slammed his fist against the kitchen table. Pegasus Hall was in much better condition after 2 weeks of hard work, however there were still downed fences and no crop. There was however sheep and cattle in the fields though John had no idea what to do with any of it before he sold it off. Slowly John smiled. His father, the Duke, had always called John an idiot and good for nothing but following orders and killing people. His mother and Carson knew differently. They’d always claimed that John was simply to lazy to apply himself and that he got away with it be pretending not to understand. Well now was not the time for acting the fool, it was time for him to act responsibly for a change. The estate needed to be in good working order before he sold it and there was only one person who could help. John went to find Rodney.

He guessed correctly that Rodney would be licking his wounds in his bedchamber. When he arrived outside the open bedchamber door he stopped in surprise. A valise lay in the middle of the bed, half filled with clothes. Rodney sat at his dressing table engrossed in writing a letter, a look of concentration on his face. John scowled. 

“Rodney?”, he said, tapping at the open door. Rodney looked up with a start, red rimmed eyes staring into John’s before he looked away. “I’m a bit busy at the moment,” he said before returning to his letter.

“I read the letter.”

Rodney’s head shot up. “You had no right to do that.”

“I know, I apologise.” He waved his hand towards the valise. “How could you possibly think that I would throw you and Jeannie out of the house?” he asked.

Rodney bit his lower lip and looked away. “I didn’t think you would. But you are now the owner of the estate and Jeannie and I have no right to be here.”

“Nor have you for the last two weeks but I’ve not demanded that you leave have I?” Although Rodney hadn’t invited him in he stepped into the room. John stopped, leaning against the bedpost, as Rodney turned in his chair to face him.

“I wouldn’t have taken the wager if I’d known Kavanagh had family here,” he said quietly.

Rodney sighed. “If you hadn’t made the wager, somebody else no doubt would have. They might not have been so considerate as you have been.”

John nodded. “Have you told Jeannie yet?”

“Not yet, but we’ll be alright John. We’re not your concern. I’m not completely without skills and I do have an education. No doubt we shall make do.”

John swallowed. This would be tricky. He didn’t want it to appear as though his offer were charity as he knew full well that Rodney would simply reject it outright. “Oh, I’m certain you will be fine,” he said. “I don’t mean to seem selfish but it’s myself I’m worried about.”

“You?” Rodney said in disbelief. He’d expected John to at least attempt to persuade them to stay.

“Well, yes. As my father has pointed out to me on a number of occasions I have little skill at anything besides drinking, killing, whoring – need I go on? I have no idea how to manage an estate.”

Rodney gazed at him for a long moment. “I don’t understand why you need to manage an estate Major. I thought you were simply going to sell it.”

John straightened. “That’s very true. But I can’t sell it like this, certainly not if I intend to make a profit.” Rodney continued to gaze at him.

“I’d like to hire you.”

“You……what?”

“I’d like to hire you.” John repeated. “I need somebody to look after the daily accounts and whatever goes with that. That way I can concentrate of making the Hall look presentable and on finding a buyer.”

“I don’t need your charity Major.”

John sighed. “I know that but it’s not charity. I really have no idea how to do this. What were you intending to do anyway?”

“I have several distant relatives scattered around the country and some overseas,” he said by way of an answer. “I thought I would write to them to see whether they would be prepared to offer me employment as a tutor.”

John didn’t like the sound of Rodney’s plan. “Splendid,” he said instead. “Whilst you are waiting for a response, why don’t you stay here and work for me. I’ll pay you five guineas a month for aiding me.” He had no idea of the correct salary for an Estate Manger, but five guineas seemed a reasonable amount.

“Seven”, he returned. “And Jeannie and I keep our current rooms.”

“Fine, as long as I can now move out of the Library into one of the bedchambers.”

Rodney smiled. “I see no reason why not. You are the master of the Hall after all. You will remember though that we may leave whenever we wish.”

John stifled a grin. “Agreed then, I think one week’s notice either side is reasonable?”

Rodney stood and thrust out his hand. “I accept.”

Before Rodney could change his mind or attempt to raise his salary, John gripped his hand in his and shook it firmly. “Thank you,” he said. “Can you start tomorrow?”


	11. Chapter 11

John stared at the west wing of the house and signed in exasperation. For some reason, one of Rodney’s ancestors had in the past built an extra block of stables onto the west wing. There were already stables to the back of the house not only were the ones on the west wing superfluous they also looked in danger of falling down. The storm had caused severe damage. John and his helpers had, in the last few weeks; cleared away much of the debris from the west wing and the stables stood on their own now, a forlorn entity separated from its parent. John was unsure as to whether he should attempt to repair them or whether he should simply knock them down.

“What do you think?” He turned to Halling who was stood, arms crossed, gazing at the building. 

“I think you either need to rebuilt the whole of the west wing and repair the stables or simply tear them down,” he answered.

John shuffled slightly. There had been a shift in Halling’s attitude towards him when news of John’s ownership of the Hall had started to spread. The farmer had initially been somewhat distant to John, thinking that John had taken him for a fool in not telling him that he owned the Hall. Once John had explained to him that he’d been attempting to keep things quiet whilst Rodney and Jeannie sorted themselves out he’d become friendly again.

John was amazed at how Rodney and Jeannie were dealing with the situation. Jeannie had initially been upset but now she carried on much as normal. And Rodney, well Rodney had thrown himself into the task of managing the accounts and although John knew that the man was unhappy he wasn’t going to upset Rodney further by questioning him.

“I think it’s a snipe hunt.”

“Pardon!” John was bought out of his musings by Halling’s comment. Halling grinned at him. “A snipe hunt,” he repeated. John blinked at him and then looked back at the building.

“I presume you’re referring to the stables and not to me,” he said.

“Aye. If I were you I’d simply tear them down. You don’t need them and they’re an eyesore. It will cost you a lot of blunt to repair them.”

The farmer was right. Either tearing down the rest of the wing and the stables or putting up a new one would be a long term, thankless and very expensive project. And he was steadily running out of skills to trade for any assistance.

Even so though, the part of him that delighted in the intricacies of demolition and construction was definitely awakening. The engineering talent that his fellow army officers had raved about had been completely at odds with both his social status and the career his father would eventually push on him, but he loved it anyway. John thought again about Rodney. Much as Rodney was presenting a brave unconcerned face to the world John knew it was just that, a façade. He’d come upon him on a few occasions over the last few weeks. Rodney would be stood staring at the house, a pensive look on his face until he realised that John was there and then he would school his expression and give John a small smile. John wanted to try and cheer Rodney up, to give him and Jeannie something to look forward to, to do something that would bring a genuine smile to Rodney’s face and not those insincere ones that John was accustomed to seeing.

“That’s it,” he snapped his fingers, “a barn building.”

Halling stared at him as if he’d gone mad, “a what?”

“A barn building. A friend of mine who’d been out in the Americas told me that when they build a barn they have a social event, people come around from the surrounding countrywide to help raise the barn. Food and drink is provided and musicians and they have a party afterwards. Well, we could have the same but in reverse. We could have a…. a,” he floundered for a moment trying to think of a name. “A stable demolishing. What do you think?” he asked Halling. 

Halling grinned “I think you need a better name!”

“Sheppard.” John turned as he heard his name called. He watched as Cowen bought his mount to a halt. “Damnation,” he muttered. He turned to Halling, “I need to deal with this.” Halling nodded and watched as John walked towards Deerhurst. Cowen stared down at him. “A word with you if you please.” 

“If you want to talk I suggest you dismount so we can discuss things in a gentlemanly manner.” John turned away. He was surprised this ‘talk’ had been so long in coming. He heard a curse behind him and then the sound of the Earl dismounting. He stopped and turned back to Cowen.

“Sheppard. I returned this morning from London to hear the very disturbing rumour that you have purchased Pegasus Hall.”

John nodded, keeping his expression cool and aloof. “That’s correct,” he said. “My family buys and sells property all of the time. This is just another one to add to the portfolio. I fail to see however why you should find the news disturbing.”

“The McKay’s are my close friends,” Cowen snapped. “I don’t like the idea of your people crawling all over the estate trying to make a profit for you and your family at Rodney and Jeannie’s expense.”

“I see. Well that’s very commendable of you. However, they are able to look after themselves. Besides, not that it’s any concern of yours but it was a private transaction between Kavanagh and myself. “ 

Cowen breathed a silent sigh of relief. It looked as though Sheppard knew nothing about the transfer deed. Now all he needed to do was persuade him to sell. “How much do you want for the place?” he asked.

John stared at him in surprise. He disliked Cowen intensely. He’d grown up with his kind and surrounded himself with Deerhurst’s ilk whilst in London. Some of them, he supposed he would even class as cronies. There was something about Cowen though that made his skin crawl and his hands curl into fists. He knew what it was of course. The Earl wanted Rodney, had even offered marriage to him and that in John’s eyes made him the enemy. The depth of his enmity towards Cowen though both startled and concerned John.

“Well?” Cowen asked.

“Why would you want to purchase the Hall? It’s a chock!”

The Earl looked around. “It needs work granted. But it borders my land and I have my own reasons for wanting the property. Not that my reasons are any of your damned affair. I’ll give you fifty thousand pounds for it.”

John stared at him, shocked at the amount that was being offered. Fifty thousand pounds would fund his travels for many years. It was also about twice what Pegasus was worth right now. That shouldn’t matter to him but it did. He didn’t trust the Earl one little bit. He might have been more inclined to sell if he’d been offered a realistic price, but fifty thousand! In addition, if he sold now it would leave Jeannie and Rodney with nowhere to go and with him no reason to stay. He didn’t want Rodney to marry the Earl and if he sold now he thought that might happen. 

“I’m not interested.” 

“What!” The Earl looked as if he was about to explode. “How can you not be interested in selling for fifty thousand pounds?”

John shrugged. “That’s really none of your business is it?”

“You bastard. Everybody knows you’re only in this for the profit. The whole county’s talking about your desire to go travelling. You don’t want the Hall.”

John strode up to the Earl and jabbed a finger hard into his chest. “Neither do you. You want Rodney and you think by buying the Hall you’ll be able to buy him.”

Deerhurst pushed him away. “What if I am? I’ve wanted Rodney for a very long time.” He stepped closer to John and pushed him again. “Listen now and listen good Sheppard. Rodney is mine. Nothing you do will stop that.”

John shoved back, hard enough to send the Earl staggering. “I’m warning you Deerhurst. Don’t start something. You’ll regret it believe me.” He nodded curtly and turned away. “I’ll thank you to leave my property now Deerhurst. I’m busy.”

He brushed past the shocked Earl and strode back towards Halling. He faltered for a moment seeing Rodney standing next to the farmer.

“This isn’t finished Sheppard.” Cowen shouted after him.

John ignored him and kept on walking. He couldn’t believe that he’d just refused fifty thousand pounds, and the reason for his refusal was standing next to Halling scowling at him.

Rodney stood and stared over at John and Richard. Whatever they’d been discussing neither of them seemed to be very happy about the result. Richard barely nodded at him before he galloped down the driveway on his horse. And John, well John looked as though he was about to go into battle. He’d seen the fracas between the two of them and wondered what it had been about. From the way that John was looking at him he had a feeling he might have been the reason for it.

“Do you intend to marry Deerhurst?” John asked him stiffly. Rodney glanced towards Halling. This was a matter that should be discussed in privacy. Halling seemed to understand though and he turned and walked away from the pair of them, back towards the gardens.

Rodney looked at John. His hair was damp and lying flat, once again he was shirtless and Rodney looked at the sweat glistening on his neck and chest. He wondered what it would taste like, how it would feel to lick the sweat off John’s neck and chest. He shivered slightly.

“Well?” John asked. 

“Hmm,” Rodney bought his mind away from thoughts of John’s body. “What did you say?”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really decided yet.” Rodney faltered under John’s gaze. “Is that what you were discussing?”

“No. Not precisely.”

“Then what were you talking about pray tell. It looked very heated to me.”

John shook his head. “It doesn’t really concern you.”

Rodney’s blue eyes caught his. “I think you’re lying to me Major. It clearly did concern me otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me such a question. In addition, I fail to see what it has to do with you whether I marry the Earl.”

“Is that right? Well forgive me if I’m wrong but I think it does concern me.”

“It has nothing to do with you whether I marry him or not,” Rodney snapped.

John stepped towards him. Rodney gasped as he felt the heat coming from John’s body. He stood there as John traced his lips with his finger, before stroking his cheek. “Oh I think it does concern me.” John held his gaze and moved his hand down to Rodney’s neck, stroking all the time. Rodney felt his body starting to react. Pulling away from John, he stammered something incoherent and then turning on his heel he headed back towards the house.

He tried to walk faster as he heard John following him. Before he could escape John had caught his arm and swung him around, until he was facing him. “What?” he snapped. John let go of his arm. “Deerhurst made me an offer for the Hall.”

For a moment Rodney couldn’t breathe. “He did?” he stammered. “What did he offer?”

“He offered me fifty thousand pounds.”

Rodney closed his eyes. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d been hoping that it would be later though. No. That wasn’t true. What he’d really been hoping was that John would change his mind and stay at the Hall. 

“Did you accept?” 

“No. It’s far more than the Hall is worth. I wondered what he thought he was actually purchasing.”

“What?” Rodney realised what he was implying. “Of for heavens sake John, Richard has been asking me to marry him since I turned twenty one. This isn’t a new thing. He knows how I feel. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

John took a step closer. “So you’re saying I should accept the offer. Is that correct?”

“You can’t possibly use me as a reason for not accepting his offer.” Although Rodney hoped that he would sell, at least not just yet. He hadn’t received any response to his enquiries about work and he and Jeannie would be homeless if John sold the house now. Although, he knew if push came to the shove that the Squire would provide them with accommodation.

“So I should accept the offer?” John repeated

“John really, Pegasus Hall is yours. I don’t know why you’re asking me…….”

“I refused the offer.” John interrupted him, his exasperated expression showing he was tired of Rodney’s evasiveness.

Rodney turned his eyes away from him. “Well, that’s your decision, although it’s a good offer.”

“Very true. But more work needs to be done on the property. I can always take up the offer in a month’s time if I need to.” That was of course if the offer still stood at that point, he thought wryly. 

Rodney stared at him. He realised what John was doing. He was giving them more time. John was willing to stay here for another month, working on the property to allow Rodney and Jeannie to sort things out. Rodney swallowed and blinked away the tears that were threatening to surface. Nobody had ever looked out for him like this. He realised he was beginning to fall in love with John Sheppard and that just wasn’t acceptable. There was no future for the pair of them. John wanted nothing more than to travel and Rodney, well Rodney wanted to stay here, in his home. Some of what he was feeling must have shown in his face for in the next instance John had pulled Rodney up against him and sliding his arms around Rodney’s waist he touched his lips to his. John’s lips tasted of sweat and the ginger beer that he’d consumed earlier, saltier and spicier than Rodney had ever imagined. His whole body felt warm and tingly against John’s. John’s mouth parted a little, teasing at his and making him feel as though he was about to melt.

Rodney moaned and slid his hands up and around John’s sweaty back. He wanted to devour him, to feel his hard slick body all over, to taste his salty chest; to…………

“Rodney?”

Rodney pulled away from John, as Jeannie came around the corner. “What?” he snapped, his face flushed.

Jeannie stopped and gave him a calculating look. “Mr Halling is going into Pelford for a new saw blade. Can I go with him and get some pasties?”

“Yes, yes. Of course. Do you need any money?” Realising John still had one hand around his waist he brushed it off and stepped away from him.

“Please?” Rodney dug a sovereign out of his pocket and flipped it to Jeannie. “Don’t be too long.” Jeannie caught the sovereign and grinned at the pair of them before marching back around the corner.

Rodney started after her. Before he could get more than a couple of steps away, John had grabbed hold of him and pulled him back up against his chest. “I don’t think so Rodney. This isn’t finished yet,” he bent his head to capture Rodney’s mouth again. He was surprised when Rodney kissed him back immediately, almost devouring him in his fervour. He slid his hands down Rodney’s back and cupping his plump buttocks pulled him closer to him. Rodney gave a little gasp and for a moment John thought he was going to pull away. He didn’t though, simply continuing to kiss John. Finally John lifted his head and looked down at Rodney. Rodney was flushed, eyes bright blue, lips swollen and John could feel his burgeoning hardness. He stroked Rodney’s cheek and stepped away from him. Much as he would like to continue this, now was not the time or the place to do so.

“I apologise,” he said. “This really isn’t the right place.” He watched as Rodney’ took a few deep breathes and composed himself. “You’re right,” Rodney replied, “although it’s not as if I’m a woman to be ruined by a few kisses.”

“True,” but if you want to marry then you probably shouldn’t be kissing me. At least not in public,” his grin was answered by Rodney. 

“Now,” John said, running his hands through his hair, “did you actually come out to see me about something?”

Rodney shook his head wryly. “Yes I did. The taxes are due and Pegasus has no money with which to pay them.”

Slowly he dropped his hands. “What about the tenants’ rent?”

Rodney sighed. “The seed washed out and …….. well Kavanagh wanted a new phaeton. So there was no money for replacement seed. We had to compensate them by reducing the rent. Since then half of the remaining tenants have left. There’s no money at all.”

For a long moment John just looked at him. “How much do I owe?”

“One hundred and eighteen pounds.”

He blinked. “Beg pardon?”

Rodney shifted uncomfortably. “Well it could be worse of course.” For the first time he was actually grateful that the problems of Pegasus were somebody else’s responsibility.

“Pray tell how it could be worse?” John asked sceptically.

Rodney smiled at him. “You could come from a poor family. At least you won’t have any problem raising the money to pay the taxes.”

Immediately he realised he’d said the wrong thing. John’s expression hardened and he turned on his heel. 

“John?” He was ignored and Rodney watched as John vanished around the far wing of the Hall.


	12. Chapter 12

“So there’s been no interest at all?”

John sighed and slouched deeper into the chair. After his discussion with Rodney regarding the taxes owing he’d come into Pelford to see if Maybourne had received any queries regarding the estate, only to be told the disheartening news that Maybourne’s tentative feelers had produced no results.

He crossed his legs and looked up at the solicitor. “So what do you think we need to do?”

Maybourne folded his hands in front of him. “I think you need to advertise the sale in the London papers. If you use your name in the advertisement you’re bound to garner more interest.”

John shook his head. “No, that’s not acceptable. I want to sell the property to somebody who will appreciate it, not someone that’s drawn down here simply by my family name.”

Maybourne pursed his lips. “It may well take longer to sell if we don’t use your name.” 

John ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again. “Fine. We’ll advertise. Go ahead and put the advertisement in the London papers but use your name as the contract. You’re not to use my name at all, do you understand?”

Maybourne nodded. “Of course Major, whatever you require. You will need to pay for the advertisement in advance though,” the solicitor said.

John eyed him. “How much?” he asked wearily. At this rate he would be penniless before he managed to sell the Hall.

“For a discreet advertisement, twenty shillings.”

Silently cursing John produced his purse and counted out the coins into Maybourne’s sweaty hands. “Just remember Maybourne, you need to make Pegasus sound attractive. I want to attract buyers not scare them off.”

“Of course.” Maybourne stood up from his desk and shook John’s hand. “I’ll let you have a report in a week Major.”

“My thanks.” John nodded once again and walked out of the room.

John strolled across the road to the general store. Much as he disliked Mrs Emmagen he wanted to buy some chocolate for Rodney and some sweets for Jeannie. It also wouldn’t hurt to see if Mrs Emmagen knew of any local musicians. Fifteen minutes later he was again stood outside the shop, but this time clutching a bag of chocolates and bonbons, plus some hair ribbons for Jeannie.

Mrs Emmagen had also given him details of a group of musicians led by a man with the strange sounding name of Teal’c Carter. According to Mrs Emmagen the four piece ensemble were very good and played regularly for Squire Hammond, as well as working for him on his estate. He would make a point of visiting the Squire in the next few days to speak to him about hiring them.

As he rode Puddlejumper back to the estate John noted the various repairs that still needed to dealt with, to bring his estate up to scratch. He shook himself. ‘His estate!’ He was far too young to start succumbing to the comforts of a stable home. He had plenty of opportunity to be comfortable when he was older, now was his time to go out and enjoy himself, to travel and see new places, to meet and enjoy partners of both sexes. The last thing he needed was to start looking upon the estate as his home. He could not afford to start feeling sentimental about it. He was going to sell it, sooner rather than later if he had his way; irrespective of his fondness for Rodney and his sister.

It was only as the Hall came into sight that John remembered he still had to send one hundred and eighteen pounds to the King if he wanted to hang onto the estate long enough for him to sell it. His purse was rapidly becoming lighter and lighter and out of the five hundred pounds that he’d arrived with, he would only have ninety three left after he’d paid the taxes. “Damn it,” he muttered, at this rate much as he disliked Rodney’s suggestion, he may well have to apply to Carson for a loan.

+++++++++ 

Having looked for him John found Rodney sat at the dining table surrounded by papers and ledgers. John stood in the doorway for a moment watching him. Rodney was frowning as he concentrated on the figures, there was a smudge of ink on his cheek and his hair was in disarray where he’d clearly been running his hands through it. John just thought that he looked adorable.

“Rodney,” he watched as Rodney jumped and looked up at him. John walked over to the table and put the bag down in front of him. “For you,” he said. “An apology for my abruptness earlier. I shouldn’t take my feelings about my father out on you.”

Rodney said nothing but simply pulled the bag towards him and opened it. He took a chocolate out of the bag and grinned at John before putting it in his mouth. John watched the look of bliss come over Rodney’s face as he ate the chocolate. Rodney ate another one before belatedly remembering his manners and holding out the bag to John. John shook his head and sat down next to him.

“I was thinking we should have a party,” he said.

Rodney swallowed the last of his chocolate, “a party?”

“Yes. A working party. I need to tear down the stables on the west wing. They’re falling down and they’re a hazard. I can’t afford to hire workers to pull them down so I thought why not a party have. We can provide music, food and drink and the highlight would be the demolishing of the stable.”

Rodney looked thoughtful. “It sounds reasonable,” he said hesitantly. “The only thing I’m concerned about is how our neighbours would feel about being used as labour. I assume that’s what you’re intending?”

John smiled at the “our neighbours” comment. “I’ll ask for volunteers. Squire Hammond might be able to suggest something. Anyway, I need to speak to him about hiring his musicians.”

Rodney’s face lit up. “What, the Abydos Four? They’re very good and the singer, Samantha Carter, is very attractive. For a girl of course,” he hurriedly added, seeing the look on John’s face. 

John moved his chair closer. “I’m sure she’s very pretty Rodney but I’d much rather look at you.” Rodney blushed and pulled one of the ledgers over to him, placing it between John and himself. When John looked at him like that, as though Rodney was a tasty morsel waiting to be eaten, he found it very hard to concentrate.

John looked amused as Rodney tried to turn his attention away from himself by opening up the ledger and pointing to a line therein. “John you need to be aware of this. Last year,” he said indicating another line, “you had forty five cattle.” He jumped as John pulled his chair closer to him, until his leg was pressed up against Rodney’s. 

“Did I?” warm breath against Rodney’s ear. Rodney gulped.

“Pay attention please,” he said sternly. “Cows have calves”

“Thank you so much for the biology lesson,” John commented dryly before going back to breathing on Rodney’s ear. He rested his hand on Rodney’s thigh. “Please continue Rodney.” Rodney squealed as John’s warm tongue licked his ear. “Stop it,” he pulled his head away and slapped John’s hand. John smiled lazily at him, his hazel eyes darkening in lust as he dipped his head and began to nuzzle Rodney’s neck.

“Keep going,” he said. Rodney gulped and tried to concentrate on the figures in front of him, hard to do with John nuzzling his neck. He gasped as John, slowly and oh so lightly, began to run his hand up and down Rodney’s thigh.

“We had eight calves last year and two more this spring. We also sold four head to pay bills over the last year,” his voice wobbled as John’s hand left his leg and started to move up and stroke his chest.

“Is that right?” John nipped his throat. John didn’t know what was wrong with him. He couldn’t seem to get enough of Rodney; his smell alone was driving John wild. He nipped Rodney’s neck again before pulling away. Rodney looked at him in surprise. “Kiss me,” John ordered.

Rodney smiled. “First of all tell me how many cattle you own.”

John inched closer and slid his left arm around Rodney’s waist. “You want me to tell you how many cattle I currently own?”

Rodney nodded. John pulled Rodney towards him, until Rodney was almost sitting in his lap. Rodney put his hand out on the table to stop himself from falling onto John. John nuzzled into his neck again. “So if I tell you how many cattle I have you’ll kiss me. Is that correct?” Rodney nodded.

John smiled and licked his way up Rodney’s neck before taking Rodney’s ear between his lips and nipping it softly. Rodney groaned softly, as John started to stroke Rodney’s chest with the back of his right hand. “You really really want to know?” he whispered. Rodney groaned again and nodded. He didn’t want to risk attempting to speak. “fifty one,” John whispered into his ear. Rodney tried to pull away but John wasn’t about to be tricked out a kiss. He pulled Rodney forward until Rodney was straddling him, and holding his hand at the back of Rodney’s head he closed his mouth over that loud and lopsided mouth. Now he’d started kissing Rodney he didn’t want to stop. He moved his hands down Rodney’s back until he was holding Rodney’s lush backside between them. Rodney tried to pull away but John wouldn’t allow him. Pulling Rodney closer to him he ground up and was pleased to feel Rodney’s hardness against his own. “Oh god John...” Rodney’s words were cut off as John took his mouth again in his. As John began to grind further up to him Rodney put his hands around John’s shoulders, hanging on tightly, for fear that he’d fall. John’s hands left his backside and sliding around to the front they began to undo his trousers, stopping abruptly as they heard footsteps coming down the hall. “Jesus,” John said. He let go of Rodney and carefully pushed him up and away until Rodney was sitting back in his chair, head bent down over the ledgers, trying to hide his flushed face. John’s head was bent over the ledgers with him as Jeannie stuck her head around the door.

“John, Rodney. Would you like a drink?”

John smiled at her as he looked up from the ledgers. “That would be lovely, thank you Jeannie.

He turned to Rodney as the door closed behind Jeannie and her footsteps were heard going back down the hall.

“Sometimes your sister can be exceedingly annoying,” he said.

++++++++ 

Cowen slammed the issue of The Times onto the breakfast room table. Picking the paper back up again he ripped the offending page out and tore it into shreds, until nothing remained but for tiny pieces of paper, scattering around him. His man, Michael, had pointed out the small and discreet advertisement to him. If Michael hadn’t found it Cowen would not have been aware that Sheppard was now actively marketing the property. 

Michael was a godsend. He was a distant cousin of the innkeeper, Steve Wraith, but much more intelligent. In addition he was prepared to back Cowen on anything, however illegal or murderous it might be. Cowen had rescued him from the clutches of his seedy and unpleasant family, seeing a cold quality in the small half starved boy that he knew he could harness and usefully use. Michael was tied to him by loyalty and he would kill, indeed had killed for Cowen when necessary. 

Cowen sat back and took a sip of his Darjeeling. John Sheppard was making his task of regaining Deerhurst more and more difficult as each day passed. It was time that something was done about it. He needed to ensure that his father’s stupidity was kept a secret. If the Hall exchanged hands in the traditional manner, and solicitors were brought in to peruse the documentation then the clause, amended to show that the owners of Pegasus Hall also owed Deerhurst, would be discovered. The only good thing about the private sale between Kavanagh and Sheppard was the fact that the amendment had currently gone unnoticed. However, he knew that this wouldn’t last. Sheppard had already hired one solicitor, who knew what else he would do as time went on. 

Cowen needed to persuade Rodney to marry him as soon as possible. Once that was done he would tell Rodney that he wanted to give him Pegasus Hall as a wedding gift. He would do everything that he could to get Rodney to convince Sheppard to sell the Hall to him. Cowen scowled. He was tired of waiting for Rodney to say yes. It was about time that he stepped up his campaign to wed and finally bed him. Once Sheppard had sold the property to him he would be more than happy to make sure that the Major was well and truly out of the way. He wanted no rivals for Rodney’s attention.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unfinished, unbeta'd and never posted.
> 
> What I'm doing here is posting the part that I did finish, plus where I saw the rest of the chapter going.
> 
>  
> 
> What I have also done at the end of this is post where I intended the rest of the story to go.

John looked around the garden in satisfaction. Considering he'd never organised a party before this was turning out to be a success. Perhaps it was because Rodney had taken the organisation of the event out of John's hands and simply gotten on with it.

Rodney McKay would make somebody a superb consort one day. He was intelligent, highly organised, attractive, possibly a little too highly strung but that made life interesting, and John found his biting wit highly amusing.

Rodney was also lucky in the fact that the McKay family line would hopefully be continued through Jeannie. John watched Jeannie running around in her new dress, giggling and happy with one of the neighbourhood boys. He didn't think they would be any concerns about Jeannie continuing the family line - he only hoped that by the time it came to settle a dowry upon her that Kavanagh hadn't used up all of the McKay family assets. 

Of course if she had the backing of the Sheppard family she would be inundated with prospective beaus. John idly flicked a piece of lint away from his jacket and took a mouthful of wine. 

He smiled. Not only did Jeannie have a new dress for the party he'd also been able to persuade Roadney to accept a set of clothes for the party as well. At first Rodney balked, obviously concerned how it would look to their neighbours of John bought him clothes. John had smiled though and pointed out it would look equally strange if Jeannie was given a new outfit and Rodney wasn't.

"Besides," he'd continued, "it was a thank you for organising the party." He'd been able to see that Rodney was still uncomfortable with the idea. Once the tailor arrived to measure John, faced with not only John's insistence and the tailor's less than subtle compliments and the arrange of fine fabrics, Rodney had soon capitulated. John closed his eyes remembering how sensual Rodney looked, running his hands softly over the fabrics. John had paid for Jeannie and Rodney's costumes out of his own pocket, but just for spite, at the last moment, he'd put his own outfit on his father's account. His father was always talking about how he should represent the family, should ensure he looked like a Sheppard - not some drunken wastrel. So be it. John would for once do as his father required. The tailor was excellent and the outfits soon arrived. It was fun to watch Rodney play catch-up on fashions, to see the look of pleasure on his face as he tried on the clothes made for him. 

Watching Rodney's happiness as he threw himself into the organising of the party, John knew that he wasn't prepared for the estate to go under and for Rodney and Jeannie to be made homeless. On the other hand he wasn't prepared to sell it to Cowen. He disliked the man intensely and he was curious as to why Cowen would offer so much for the estate. No matter what Cowen said he didn't believe the offer was wholly to do with Rodney. Oh he knew Cowen wanted rodney but his gut instinct, that instinct that stood him in such good stead during the war, told him there was something more at stake. until he found out what that was he was going to do his damnest to keep the estate maintenance. And that... well that meant money - money that he didn't have. He had two options - go to a money lender and take out a loan, or approach his family for help.

He couldn't approach his father thought - to do so would be an admittance of failure, not only in his father's eyes but his own as well. Oh Sumner would loan him the money but he would ensure that there were conditions imposed. Conditions John knew he couldn't agree too. So, Carson it was.

Having made the decision to seek help from his brother, it took John a few days to actually sit down and write the letter. Every day hoping that some mirace might happen, a missive from his lawyer telling him of an interesting new property but nothing. Finally, after Rodney once again asked him to look at the household ledgers did he concede defeat and going to his room hastily wrote a letter to his brother, sending it off to be posted before he could take it back adn tear it up. 

John knew Carson would help but it still didn't sit right with him to be asking for help.

Now all he cdould do was wait and see what Carson's response would be. 

John's eyes were drawn to the entrance as another guest arrived. He scowled as he realised it was Cowen. If it were up to him the man wouldn't have been invited but he'd left the invitations to Rodney, along with everything really. In all honesty John knew they couldn't have _not_ invited the Earl but it still rankled with him. 

Every time he saw the other man he had to stop himself from reaching for a weapon. He schooled his expression and watched as Cowen was passed a drink, as he turned and caught John's eye. He raised his glass to John. John watched as Cowen slowly began to make his way toward him. He tok a further sip of his wine. 

He looked Cowen over as the man stopped in front of him. As ever, the Earl was impeccably dressed. It must be nice to have that kind of money, to not worry how the next bill would be paid. 

"Lord Cowen," he drawled.

"Sheppard." Cowen's look was dismissive and John stiffened at the implied insult. Cowen looked around. 

"Rodney has done an excellent job of organising your... party. He has many excellent qualities don't you agree." His smile was feral.

John gave smiled tightly before looking around for Rodney.

 

================================

 

**Remainder of what was to happen in Chapter 13**

 

================================

John dances with Jeannie - Abydos 4 Play.

Abydos 4 - Sam - playing fiddle/singing  
Teal'c - playing accordion  
Daniel - playing fiddle  
Jack - playing harmonica

 

Rodney watches John dancing with Jeannie. He's pleased the house is being used again. He thinks about how fine John looks in his new clothes. 

Cowen going over to speak to Rodney. Telling Rodney how he felt about him and proposing to him. Telling Rodney if they married he would do his upmost to buy back Pegasus Hall from John and gift it to Rodney for his own. It would be his wedding gift. 

Cowen then kissing Rodney, holding Rodney against the wall with his body. Rodney finding it a turn on and enjoying the kiss, enjoying the slightly rough handling. Cowen telling 

John spotting Rodney and Cowen coming back to the main gathering. Rodney looking flushed, obvious to John's practiced eyes that he'd been kissed. Cowen smugly looking over at John and tipping him a sarcastic salute. 

Party ending. John making his move on Rodney. Kissing Rodney hard but passionately. Running his mouth over Rodney's neck, his hand in Rodney's hair, the other creeping under Rodney's shirt. Rodney overwhelmed by it all. Rodney coming almost straight away, being embarrassed but John grinning at him, telling him hot Rodney was.

John not letting him go, arousing Rodney again. His lips all over Rodney's body, telling him how fantastic he looked in his new clothes. Holding Rodney's hands against his side, flat against the wall. John going down on his knees and sucking Rodney off. Telling Rodney that he wanted to fuck him. John coming in his pants, telling Rodney to see what Rodney did to him. How excited he got him. But also telling Rodney he wouldn't fuck him this time. He wanted Rodney to be sure. 

John fetching a couple of beers for them, Rodney resting his head on John's shoulder. he's confused and doesn't know what he wants.

 

=========================

**REMAINDER OF THE STORY**

=========================

 

Cowen's estate is legally tied to Pegasus Hall which of course Rodney doesn't know. That's why Cowen wants to get the property back before anybody does find out. This is the main reason that he wants to marry Rodney, although he also wants Rodney in his bed. Later things that were due to happen were John's brother Carson turning up with Radek and with a second cousin of theirs, (I hadn't figured out who was going to take that role), but he had previously had a relationship with John. He doesn't hide his attraction to John either and Rodney gets very jealous. Once Rodney decided to reject Cowen's proposal there was nothing left available to him other than to kidnap Rodney, the intent being to bed and wed him forcibly. John of course rescues him and in doing so would kill Cowen.

Rodney would accept John's proposal of marriage. There would be power play and a fair amount of John slamming Rodney against hard surfaces, quite often to shut him up if nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it folks. It's astonishing and humbling that people are still asking after this fic after so many years. And thank you so much for continuing to want to read it.
> 
> Unfortunately I have no incentive to finish this. As I did mention to one of my LJ friends recently one of the main issues I have always had with this story is that this is the first time I used the plot from somebody else's story, and I felt that there was too much of the original story within the first few chapters. It felt almost as though it wasn't _my_ story.


End file.
